In A Lifetime
by dupton
Summary: CANCELLED C&M Monica's devastating news throws her life and relationship with Chandler into turmoil....
1. Chapter One: Unbreakable

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter One: Unbreakable  
  
Disclaimer: I own them. All of them! No, actually, you guessed it- the characters are not mine. I am still awaiting their appearance for sale on EBay, though. Hmmm.... Monica for $3.....  
  
A/N: I probably shouldn't be starting this, but I have ideas occasionally that just won't go away. This has been checked by no one, and approved by no one. It is totally spontaneous. That's why I need you to review! I need to know what people think. I know people read things without reviewing, so at least find some way to tell me you like it. Yes, all you FB people- you know who you are......  
  
This is just a short first chapter- the rest will be longer. If I continue.  
  
It's gonna be dramatic, and has probably been done before, but I have not seen it, and hope it will attract people's attention. It's gonna be both Mon and Chan torture. So if you hate that kind of stuff- run! Run for your lives!  
  
You people still here- did I mention review? Yeah, I think I did. But I'll say it again: review! Please?  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Honey?" called Monica into the living room.  
  
"Yeah?" she heard Chandler shout back.  
  
She picked up the calender and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her so the draught from the window didn't enter the living room. A short draught of it drifted out, making the wind chimes near the balcony flutter and softly chime.  
  
Monica walked over. "Do you have your tux yet? It's only two months until we get married!" she said, pointing to the ringed date on the calender, which was circled with heavy red pen.  
  
Chandler smiled. "Yes, I'm going with Rachel to get it tomorrow." His expression suddenly changed. "Hey, did you hear what you just said?" he asked, moving closer to her, looking at her coyly.  
  
Monica frowned. "What?"  
  
Chandler took her hands and smiled. "That we are getting married in two months," he said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face and staring into her eyes.  
  
"Really?" smiled Monica. "Well, then you'd better enjoy your last days of batchelor life." She cleared her throat and spoke in a nasal voice. "Oh- my- Gawd! Chand-ler Bing!" she imitated, laughing. "You better take this last chance to bump uglies with me, or else we'll never get another chance!" she exclaimed, laughing again.  
  
Chandler crossed his arms. "Is that supposed to turn me on, or annoy me to hell?" he said, trying not to laugh.  
  
Monica shrugged and returned to her normal voice. "I don't know. Which did it do?"  
  
"Guess," said Chandler, grinning and moving slowly towards her, making her walk backwards into the bedroom.  
  
"Ahahahahahaha!" exclaimed Monica, laughing.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Rachel took a couple of tuxes off the rack and held them up. "How about this one?" she asked, holding one out.  
  
"No," said Chandler, shaking his head. "Too dull."  
  
Rachel hung it back up. "This one?" she asked.  
  
Chandler considered."Hmm... no, it's a little too bright. I don't want people not to be able to see."  
  
Rachel rolled her eyes, but picked up another one. "How about this one?"  
  
Chandler squinted. "That's too small," he said, pointing at the short jacket.  
  
"What?" said Rachel, holding it out so she could look at it. "Oh, yeah...." She hung it up on an empty rack, and picked up another tux. "What about.... this one?" she said.  
  
Chandler frowned. "Yeah, that's quite a nice one... Let me try it on."  
  
Rachel handed it to him. "There you go," she said, pointing to the changing room.  
  
Chandler walked in and closed the door.  
  
"So, you nervous, Chandler?" asked Rachel, leaning back against the wall. "Big day approaching... you're getting married... Must be pretty scary," she said, closing her eyes from exhaustion. Finding Chandler a tux was harder than she'd expected.  
  
"No, not really," called Chandler, muffled as he started to pull off his jumper."I mean, I know I was all freaky about this kind of commitment back then, but, y'know, I've found the woman I love and nothing is gonna change that. I love her, and I'm so happy that I get to spend the rest of my life with her. She's mine, and I won't let anyone take her away, especially not me."  
  
Rachel smiled. "That's so sweet, Chandler," she said.  
  
Chandler smiled, even though Rachel couldn't see him. He stuck his leg into the pants. It didn't go in. "Dammit, you couldn't have chosen one with a pair of pants that actually let people fit their legs inside them, could you?!" moaned Chandler, his tone changing, and he threw the pants over the top of the door. Rachel jumped up and caught them.  
  
"Chandler! These tuxes are expensive! You're not supposed to throw them around!" Rachel snipped, folding the trousers neatly over the hanger, and putting them on a rack.  
  
"Well, they should be the right size for someone! No one could fit in those!" he said. "Now give me one that actually fits!"  
  
Rachel searched through the rack. "Here," she said, and slid it through the crack in the door that Chandler opened. "So, you're really not nervous?"  
  
"Nope," said Chandler. "I'm looking foward to it, actually. Nothing will stop us now. We're unbreakable." He paused. "Dammit, are you an expert at picking out pants that are too small?!"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica paced up and down the kitchen floor, looking down at the floor, her ear to the phone.  
  
"Uh huh. And you're sure that's what it is? Well, couldn't it be something else? Oh. Well, thank you."  
  
She put the phone down, and stopped pacing. She heard noise outside, and grabbed the duster from the table.  
  
Chandler walked in. "Hey, Mon. Whatcha doing?"  
  
Monica rubbed the table. "Er... I was just... just dusting the table. Y'know, dust dust dust. Where have you been?" she asked, dropping the duster and putting her hand on her forehead.  
  
Chandler sorted through the post as he answered. "I went to get a tux with Rach," he said. "Who was that?" he asked, indicating the phone, which lay messily out of the base unit.  
  
Monica sighed. "Oh, it was just someone at the restaurant," she said, worried about how much he had heard. "They were just asking about the wedding food. Y'know, do we want chips and salsa, chips and salsa."  
  
Chandler frowned. "Who has chips and salsa at a wedding?" he asked.  
  
"Exactly!" exclaimed Monica. "That's why I told them..."she said slowly, her face softening, looking sadly at him. "That's why I told them that it was stupid, and that we didn't want it."  
  
Chandler smiled. "You okay, Mon?" he asked, standing up.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she said, walking over to him. "I love you," she said softly, kissing him lightly on the lips.  
  
He smiled. "I love you too," he said. "Can you wait?" he said, pointing to the calender on the coffee table.  
  
Monica looked. "No, I can't. I really can't," she whispered, and he kissed her deeply, his lips touching her's, his hands roaming through her hair. She moaned softly, her eyes closing in pleasure. Kissing him was like summertime in Oz, where every day was sunny and beautiful, and nothing bad ever happened. She wished she could stay in that world forever.  
  
"And now I love you even more," she said, when they broke apart.  
  
He smiled.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica tapped her fingers on the chair as she waited for him to come back.  
  
A doctor's office? Of all the places to be seven weeks before her wedding, she was in a doctor's office.  
  
She looked around at the walls, which were painted cream. How dull, she thought. With all the pain that comig to a doctor's office usually came with, you'd think they would have at least painted the walls a nice colour. But no, they were cream.  
  
And then she saw the stupid poster of that smiling woman with super white teeth. Who has teeth like that?, she thought. I mean, its impossible to get them that white. Floss every day, and still there's a tinge of yellow on your teeth. The white's probably put there by computers, she thought.  
  
Chandler would know. He knew all about computers, even if sometimes, he resented always having to work with them. She loved that he stuck by it, since he knew that was the only way he could support her. He always took care of her. That was why she loved him so much.  
  
She looked around as the doctor came in.  
  
"Sorry it took me so long," said the doctor, pushing his glasses up. "Now, where were we?"  
  
Monica coughed. "Almost finished. You were talking to me about telling Chandler," she said quietly.  
  
"Oh, yes," he said, looking down at her. "Monica, you have to tell him."  
  
"Why?" asked Monica, quite calmly, although her nerves were wavering uncontrollably.  
  
"Because!" said the doctor, as if it were obvious. "You need him to know."  
  
"But it'll ruin everything!" she said exasperately, holding out her hands pleadingly. "I don't want it hanging over our wedding. It might be gone after then, and he'll never have to know. I like things the way they are. I don't want them to change."  
  
The doctor sighed. "Monica, you don't know whether it'll have gone. There's a lot of factors that affect it. You still have to make a proper decision about it. It won't just vanish. So you need to tell Chandler."  
  
Monica looked down, her fingers playing nervously with her cuff. "I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice cracking. "He's always been nervous about commitment, and I know he's fine about marriage now, but I don't know what it'll do if I tell him this," she said quietly.  
  
The doctor put a comforting hand on Monica's. "I'll leave it with you. I can't force you to decide. But it would be so much easier for you if you told him." He moved his hand away. "He could be the one who gets you through this," he said, and left silently, giving Monica one last glance.  
  
*~*~*  
  
A/N: You've guessed what it is already, haven't you? Well, review and tell me what you thought. Just a minute of your time will make my day! Thanks! 


	2. Chapter Two: The Wind Fought

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter Two: The Wind Fought  
  
Disclaimer: Would you really believe me if I said they were mine? Exactly.  
  
A/N: Well, I was very surprised at the reaction I got from the first chapter. I've never gotten so many reviews on a chapter before. I'd like to thank everyone that did review, and I hope you outdo yourselves on this chapter. Wishful thinking, eh? But please, you know what makes my world go round, so leave a review!  
  
This chapter, does in fact reveal the "condition" of Monica. There was no point in dragging that out, since the story is about the couple's reactions to it. Some of you kind of guessed it.  
  
And I said the rest of the chapters would be longer than the first- but this one isn't. If things go according to the plan, the rest WILL be longer. I hope you still enjoy this story, and that you don't think I've gone off on the wrong track with it. I'm too insecure. So that's why reviews are very important. They tell me what people think. So leave one. Please. Do I have to beg?  
  
The two songs used in this chapter are The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra and Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. And fans of the show should recognise the significance of those two songs.  
  
*~*~*  
  
A raindrop dripped throught the trees, sliding from leaf to leaf, while others of it's kind fell straight to Earth, bouncing off the paved walkway through the park. The wind blew yet more raindrops from their leaf, sending them hurtling through the air. Men and women struggled along the path, some with umbrellas, some without, trying to stand the pouring rain. The wind fought against the umbrellas, trying it's best to push the people away. But they fought their way on, becoming battered and soaked by the downpour.  
  
On a bench, the wood soaking wet itself, sat Monica, her eyes closed. Partly against the rain, but really because she was thinking. Thinking hard.  
  
The rain didn't really bother Monica. She would dry off, and she was suitably dressed to prevent herself from catching a cold, or something similar. The scarf around her neck was almost so tight that she almost felt like she was being strangled.  
  
The doctor's words rang through her head:  
  
"You need him to know."  
  
Her expression pained as she relived that conversation, remembered being in that office.  
  
"You still have to make a proper decision about it. It won't just vanish. So you need to tell Chandler."  
  
She felt tears start to drop from her already wet eyes, sliding down her face, mostly being blown away before they reached the lower regions of her face. The few that did lingered on her lips for a few moments, then died, evaporating into her warm mouth.  
  
"He could be the one who gets you through this."  
  
He could be. Or he could be the one who makes it worse. He could be the one who freaks out, the one who makes it harder for her to handle, the one who tears her apart.  
  
She knew Chandler. She did. She knew practically ever nook and cranny of him. But they had never been put through a test like this, and she wasn't sure how he would react.  
  
He might be sad, but supportive, helping her out, reassuring her, making it easier for her.  
  
Or he might freak out, abandon her, leave her alone, sad and heart-broken.  
  
And she didn't want to risk that.  
  
So she sat in the drenching rain, as all the people of New York passed by, trying to come to a decision. She ran all the possibilities through her mind, but she sat for hours thinking, not knowing what to do. And as the rain battered down, the sun began to set, and it became darker. And still Monica did not move.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler flicked the lighter, and the last candle illuminated on the table.  
  
He looked around at the room. The main lights were out, and instead the room was lit with dozens of candles, flickering gently in the air. Upon the table sat dishes of food, all prepared by himself. Years of being with Monica had actually taught him how to cook. Granted, it was only pasta tonight, but his menu would expand over the few nights to come.  
  
It wasn't anything special this week, but Chandler had suddenly had the idea to have romantic nights in with Monica this week, just to show her how much he loved her.  
  
And god, he did. The scene in the room reminded him of the night they were engaged, when he had entered the apartment thinking she'd left, that he'd scared her away...and the entire room had been filled with candles, the darkness flowing through the room, between the glowing light of the candles. And their she had been standing, a slight smile on her face. His whole heart had turned upside down at that point, knowing he would always remember this.  
  
He had recreated the scene in the apartment as best he could, candles filling the room, all moving gently together.  
  
He turned on the stereo, taking out a CD and turning it on.  
  
"Some day, when I'm awfully low,  
  
When the world is cold,  
  
I will feel a glow just thinking of you...  
  
And the way you look tonight...."  
  
He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. This was their song.  
  
"Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm,  
  
And your cheeks so soft,  
  
There is nothing for me but to love you,  
  
And the way you look tonight...."  
  
She sat in the rain, watching the people run past, and her mind made a decision. She got up, and began to walk home.  
  
"With each word your tenderness grows,  
  
Tearing my fear apart...  
  
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,  
  
It touches my foolish heart...."  
  
He heard the door starting to open, and jumped up to greet her.  
  
"Lovely ... never, ever change.  
  
Keep that breathless charm.  
  
Won't you please arrange it?  
  
'Cause I love you ... just the way you look tonight."  
  
She walked in, and saw the room, illuminated by the candle light. She heard the music, and smiled.  
  
She saw him, and sighed. She loved him so much, but was she about to steal the wonderful tonight- from both of them?  
  
"Mm, mm, mm, mm,  
  
Just the way you look to-night."  
  
Chandler looked closer at her. "Oh, Monica, you're soaked! Where have you been?" he said, taking off her coat and hanging it up for her, then rubbing her down.  
  
Monica swallowed. "I- I was just walking home, is all. It's really pouring down out there," she said, pointing outside.  
  
"Still, you look like you've been out there for hours," said Chandler concernedly. "Come on, we need to dry you off. You look like you could do with a shower. All the rainwater in your hair...." he said, leading her to the bathroom.  
  
Monica turned to look at the food. " But, Chandler... what about the food?" she asked, pointing to the dishes of pasta that lay on the table. "It'll go cold, and you've worked so hard," she said sadly.  
  
Chandler waved his arm dimissively. "Don't worry about that," he said. "It's only pasta. I'll make some more. Now you go shower," he said, pulling her gently into the bathroom. "Hey," he said, "How about I shower with you?" he smiled coyly.  
  
Monica's eyes widened in horror. "No!" she yelled, making Chandler jump. "I mean, no," she said quieter, kissing him lightly in apology. "You've got to cook the food, haven't you?" she said.  
  
Chandler sighed. "Oh, yeah," he said, walking into the kitchen. "Well, it'll all be ready when you come out," he said, smiling.  
  
She smiled back and walked into the bathroom, sighing in relief.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"He could be the one who gets you through this."  
  
The doctor's words rang through her head again, mixed with the sounds of Eric Clapton from the stereo. Chandler smiled at her as he took another mouthful of pasta. She smiled back.  
  
Okay, she would do it. She would tell him.  
  
But first she wanted one last, perfectly happy moment with him.  
  
She put down her fork and took Chandler's hand from the table.  
  
He looked up. "What?" he said.  
  
"Dance with me," she said softly.  
  
He smiled. "Okay," he said, and let her lead him over to the living room. He put his hands on her back, and she wrapped her's around his neck. The soft sounds floated from the radio, and they swayed gently to the music, still in the candlelight.  
  
"I feel wonderful  
  
Because I see the love light in your eyes  
  
And the wonder of it all  
  
Is that you just don't realize  
  
How much I love you..."  
  
Monica felt herself starting to cry as they turned slowly together, their bodies close together, feeling each other's breath on their shoulder and hair, breathing in each other's scent.  
  
To Chandler, it was just a dance with his fiancee. There'd be lots more.  
  
To Monica, it could have been the last dance she had with him. And she savoured it.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler felt a drop of water fall onto his shoulder, and he leaned back to look at Monica.  
  
She was crying. Teardrops rolled down her face, and she had her eyes closed, her mouth forming the words of the song silently.  
  
"Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight..."  
  
He smiled. "What's wrong, Mon?" he whispered.  
  
She opened her eyes, and stared at him. "Nothing, it's just the song," she said, drying her eyes with a tissue, and turning away. Tears continued to roll down her face.  
  
Chandler frowned conceredly. "Monica, what's wrong?" he said again, putting his hand on her shoulder.  
  
She swallowed. It was now or never.  
  
"I have something- something to tell you," she said slowly. "And I need you to let me say it all before you say anything."  
  
Chandler nodded. "Okay," he said. "What is it?"  
  
Monica sat down on the floor, and Chandler followed suit.  
  
"Er...." started Monica. "I- I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago," she said. Chandler just looked at her. "They- they did some tests on me. And the- the results came back a couple of days ago," she said slowly. Chandler looked concerned, but didn't say anything.  
  
Monica looked down. "And it turns out.... it turns out that I've got breast cancer," she whispered, and her tear that had been hanging loosely below her eye fell onto Chandler's outstreched hand, and rolled across his still skin. 


	3. Chapter Three: And I Can't Say How Much

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter Three: And I Can't Say How Much  
  
Discalimer: After all the legal battles I've gone through trying to prove that they ARE mine, I can't afford to waist any more money, and had to concede that the characters ARE NOT MINE.  
  
A/N: And here we go with chapter 3. Thank you SO MUCH for all the wonderful reviews you have given me- they let me know you are enjoying it, and they really cheer me up. So keep 'em coming! See if you can break your record. Nothing wrong in having goals.....  
  
I'm not going to reveal anything, nut the reviewer Llew was right.... the sad art hasn't started yet. And still hasn't.  
  
Thnaks to Becca for being my outlet for my problems, and to Monnie for proofing this, and for everything else she's done. This chapter is dedicated to you two, penguin sistas!  
  
*~*~*  
  
"And it turns out.... it turns out that I've got breast cancer."  
  
Chandler heard the words in his head, but they didn't register properly. He stared blankly at Monica's tear-stained face, his vision blurred.  
  
"Wh-What?" he whispered.  
  
Monica looked up, and tried to repeat what she's said, but her voice didn't come, her lips were dry, and she remained silent. She just looked sadly at Chandler, nervously anticipating his reaction, once he realised what she'd said.  
  
"Wh- What?" he repeated, his eyes not moving from Monica's face. She cried as she saw that he wasn't looking at her, but through her. She wanted him to understand, she wanted it so badly, and no matter how much she had tried to prepare herself for this exact situation, she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her face and dropping to the floor, leaving a dark stain on the rug underfoot.  
  
Monica reached out slowly and gave Chandler's hand the lighest of touches. Her finger cautiously grazed his skin, moving in no particular pattern over the back of his hand. She felt the little hairs on his skin stood on end, and moved her finger tentatively over them, bending them slightly.  
  
Chandler felt the movement on his hand, and he turned his head to look at what it was causing the odd tingling sensation on his body.  
  
Monica's head jerked upwards as she saw movement at the top of her eyeline. She stared at Chandler, who's eyes finally met her's, still with a distant stare, but she knew his eyes were looking into her's, and she spoke.  
  
"Chandler," she whispered softly, "I know this is very hard for you to- to accept," she said, her voice cracking slightly, still trying to accept it herself, "but I can't turn back time. I wish I could, I wish I didn't have it, Chandler, but I do, and I've accepted it. And I need you to accept it too. Because I can't do this without you." She wiped a tear from her cheek before it slipped onto her lips, and grasped Chandler's hand as he slowly turned it towards her. "I need you to help me get through this. I love you more than anyone else in the world, and if I don't have you.... I have no one."  
  
Chandler looked at her, and she saw the distance of his expression recede, and he looked directly at her at last, his eyes moving into focus. He squeezed her hand gently, and pushed back a stray strand of her hair from over her eye.  
  
"Monica," he breathed, "You know I'll be there for you, any time, any place, for anything. I love you, more than anything. More than anyone has ever loved anyone. I know you know that. And I know you know I'd help you through anything. You'll always have me."  
  
His last words ringed through the silent air, echoing unnaturally through the room. Monica got the strange feeling that the echo was mocking her, as if the still air knew something she didn't. She smiled at Chandler through her tears, which still marred her vision, and she slowly got to her feet, Chandler rising with her.  
  
"Come on," he said, putting a warm and comforting arm around her. "It's late, and I have to get up early for a meeting tomorrow... let's go to bed."  
  
He began to lead her towards their bedroom, but Monica stopped him for a second.  
  
"Chandler?" she said.  
  
He looked around at her, smiling. "Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you," she said simply, and she leaned in to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.  
  
He smiled at her, and they continued into their bedroom together.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica jumped as the toaster loudly announced that it had finished burning the bread she had stuck in a few minutes earlier, and grabbed the nearest piece to subject it to the butter knife.  
  
Chandler walked out of the bathroom and walked up behind Monica. "Hey," he said into her ear, kissing her on the cheek softly. "Let me do that," he said, gently easing the knife from her hand and taking it up himself.  
  
Monica looked bewildered, but sat down at the table anyway. "How come?" she asked.  
  
Chandler looked around, throwing the piece of toast carefully onto a plate and beginning to butter the next one. "Well, I never do things in the morning, and you- you need to rest..." he said, turning back to see what he was doing. "I just thought I'd do some work for a change."  
  
Monica's brain fought her instinct to insist to say that she didn't need to rest, and she just smiled. "Thanks," she said. "So, what are we going to do today? I'm glad they gave you a day off after yesterday. That meeting sounded like it was pointless."  
  
"It was," said Chandler, passing her the plate with the toast on, and starting to butter the third piece. "Doug just droned on and on for hours about how all the lines were going down, so he wasn't happy. I'm surprised I didn't fall asleep," he smiled, taking the final piece of toast from the toaster.  
  
"So what do you want to do?" asked Monica, between bites of the warm buttered toast. "I make great toast, don't I?" she exclaimed, marvelling at it.  
  
Chandler laughed. "It's TOAST, Mon. It's not like you made a lasagna for breakfast." He sat down next to her. "And besides, I buttered it."  
  
Monica hit him lightly. "So what do you want to do?" she asked, finishing off her first piece and picking up the other. "We've got all day to fill."  
  
Chandler considered. "Well, I was thinking we go shopping this morning, since that's your FAVOURITE thing to do ever, and I have nothing better to do than be dragged around shoe shops..."  
  
Monica smiled. "Aww, you'd really do that for me?" she said warmly, squeezing his hand affectionately over the table.  
  
Chandler grinned. "You know I'd do anything for you," he said. "And I thought maybe we could have a kind of picnic lunch in the park afterwards...."  
  
Monica's smile widened. "This just get's better and better, doesn't it?" she grinned. Then she remembered something she'd wanted to say, and her expression fell slightly. "But..." she started, "there was kinda something else I wanted to do today," she said slowly.  
  
Chandler looked unfazed. "Yeah?"  
  
Monica swallowed. "Well, I was thinking... that I want to tell everyone else about... y'know..." she said, looking at Chandler for his reaction.  
  
Chandler leaned back in surprise. "Really? Are you sure you want to?"  
  
Monica nodded. "I want them to know. They'll only get suspicious, and they're our best friends.... yes, I want them to know. We've both come to terms with it, and they need to too."  
  
"Okay," nodded Chandler. "But we can still do all that other stuff, right?"  
  
Monica grinned and stood up. "Hell, yeah!" she exclaimed. "Hold on to your wallet mister, 'cause there won't be much in it by the end of the morning!"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler opened the blanket wide and spread it out before him. It waved slightly in the light wind, and he lowered it the ground. Monica lifted the picnic basket and placed it on the blanket, as a weight against it flying away.  
  
Chandler sat down next to the basket and opened it, passing Monica the sandwiches that lay on top.  
  
"Sandwiches?" asked Monica. "Isn't that a bit dull? I knew I shouldn't have let you get the food," she moaned, putting the packet down next to her.  
  
Chandler laughed. "No, that's just a starter. We have..." he said, and lifted a bottle out from the basket, "champagne..." he lifted out a box, "strawberries..."  
  
Monica smiled. "Planning on some 'London style' later, are we?" she teased, opening the strawberries and putting one into her mouth. "Oh, so good..." she moaned, closing her eyes in pleasure. "You have got to have one," she said to Chandler when she opened her eyes.  
  
"Okay," said Chandler, reaching for one, but Monica moved his hand away.  
  
She picked one out of the basket and took it lightly in her fingers. She reached up to Chandler's mouth, and eased it through the small gap between his lips. He licked her fingers with his tongue as they entered her mouth, letting the strawberry slide to the side of his mouth while his tongue concentrated it's attention on Monica's gentle skin.  
  
Monica ran her fingers around Chandler's lips, feeling the amazing softness of his lips. She reluctantly took her fingers away from his face. Chandler slowly opened his eyes, staring into Monica's intensely.  
  
"That was good," he breathed.  
  
*~*~*  
  
They walked into the coffeehouse together, hands entwined, and saw the others all sat around lazily on the couch.  
  
"Hey guys," said Chandler loudly, signalling to Gunther for two cups of coffee.  
  
"Hey," they chorused. Joey sat up from his streched out position on the couch, and Monica and Chandler sat down next to him.  
  
"What's up?" asked Rachel, leaning foward slightly from her seat at the round table by the counter. "Where've you two been all day?"  
  
Monica smiled. "Well.... first, we went shopping, and bought LOADS of stuff..." she said, then looked at Chandler, who looked annoyed. "Alright, I bought loads of stuff... and then we went for a picnic in the park."  
  
Joey sat foward. "A picnic? Without me? I LOVE picnics!" he moaned. "Awww, man...."  
  
Chandler smiled. "Actually, Joe, I don't think you'd have liked it much. We did our own version of London style," he grinned. Ross squirmed uncomfortably, but Joey smiled.  
  
"Oh, yeah? Went behind a bush, did ya?" he grinned. "Did a little..."  
  
Monica frowned. "No, we just had strawberries and cream in the middle of a very beautiflu wooded area."  
  
"Yeah, the rest comes later," said Chandler quietly, leaning towards Joey, who grinned wider still.  
  
Monica frowned. "Chandler!"  
  
Chandler turned and smiled sweetly. "Sorry, sweetie."  
  
Monica widened her eyes obviously, and Chandler suddenly remembered why they'd come into the coffeehouse instead of going home.  
  
"Er, guys," said Chandler, clearing his throat, and everyone looked around. "We- we have something we need to talk to you about," he said slowly. Rachel and Phoebe at the round table nodded and leaned closer, Ross lifted his head up from the magazine he was immersed in, and Joey shifted his position so he was facing the nervous couple.  
  
"What is it?" asked Ross, closing his magazine and leaning in, since the rest already were.  
  
Chandler looked at Monica, who nodded, indicating that she would tell them.  
  
"Well..." started Monica, swallowing, "I've been having some tests done on me recently at the doctor's, and they came back a couple of days ago."  
  
Ross' eyes widened and he sat further foward, although his back was bent almost as far as it could have been already. "What?" he said in alarm.  
  
Monica looked at him, and she just blurted it out. "I've got breast cancer," she said quickly, making Ross almost fall of his chair, and the others all gasped.  
  
Joey just sat there looking dumbfounded, while Rachel and Phoebe immediatly got off their seats and knelt down by Monica in concern, rubbing her arm.  
  
"Honey, are you okay?" asked Rachel, and Phoebe took Monica's hand and rubbed it.  
  
"Guys, I'm okay," smiled Monica. "I'm going in for treatment, and it should all be fine. Don't worry for me. I'll probably end up doing enough of that myself," she said, and looked round at Chandler. "And Chandler can get me through this. You guys have enough going on in your lifes to worry about little old me."  
  
Ross walked round the back of the couch and sat on the edge of the coffee table to talk to Monica. "Monica, if we want to worry, we can. We wouldn't be good friends of we didn't. And I'd be a TERRIBLE brother if I didn't. We all want to help get you through this," he insisted, and the others murmured in agreement.  
  
Monica smiled gratefully. "Okay," she conceded. "Thanks guys," she said, looking around at all of them, including Joey, who still looked dumbfounded. "Joey?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face.  
  
"Huh?" said Joey, moving his gaze finally.  
  
"Are you alright?" asked Chandler.  
  
Joey nodded. "Yeah, I'm- I'm fine," he said unconvincingly.  
  
"You don't sound fine," frowned Monica. "What is it?"  
  
Joey wiped his glistening eyes. "I just never- never thought any of us would get really sick like this. I never thought I might have to face the worst."  
  
Monica's face became alarmed, but Chandler put a reassuring arm on her shoulder. "Nothing's going to happen to any of us, Joe. Monica will be fine, you'll see. She just needs all of us to support her." He kissed Monica's cheek. "Come on, sweetie, we've gotta go."  
  
Rachel looked up. "Where are you going?" she asked.  
  
"We're going to a posh place for dinner, so we have to get ready. It's almost six, you know," said Chandler, pointing at his watch.  
  
Joey's eyes widened. "It is?! Aww, damn!" he shouted, and ran out of the coffeehouse, stuffing his arms into his jacket sleeves as he raced off down the street.  
  
Monica looked bewildered. "Forgot an audition or something, did he?"  
  
Rachel nodded. "Oh, they're doing some outside DOOL shooting this evening."  
  
Chandler shrugged. "Well, we're off. See you guys tomorrow."  
  
Ross, Rachel and Phoebe smiled. "Okay," said Ross.  
  
Monica turned back as they put on their jackets. "And guys?" she said, and they looked up again. "Thanks," she smiled, and vanished through the door after Chandler.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler's grip on Monica's hand tightened nervously as a woman walked out of the examination room, looking rather dejected.  
  
"Mon, she didn't look very happy... are you sure you're alright?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes. His own were panicked, and his body was tensioned.  
  
Monica laughed. "I'm fine, Chandler. It's just a short doctor's appointment. I think you're the one who's not okay." She kissed him gently. "It'll be alright, Chandler," she said softly. "I can feel it. Everything will work out in the end." She saw the doctor's head poke out of the doorway, and she stood up. "Come on, we're going in."  
  
She walked over to the doorway. The doctor had gone back in. Chandler started to walk in, but stopped when he saw that Monica had frozen before it.  
  
"Monica?" he said.  
  
She looked around. "I'm fine," she said again. "I just- just needed a second," she said nervously.  
  
Chandler smiled and took her hand again. "I know," he said, hugging her tightly, and they walked through the doorway together. 


	4. Chapter Four: A Warning Sign

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter 4: A Warning Sign  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were, never will be. But if I have my way.....  
  
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, to everyone who submitted one. If you could do so again, that would be swell. (Swell? What the hell? Hey, that rhymed.)  
  
I never told people this.... but this fic is named after the song In A Lifetime by Clannad, an 80's group, from Ireland, I think. My dad liked them, and had the CD, so I listened to it, loved it, and many years later, heard it and used it here. The chapter title is from that song.  
  
Okay, Monnie says to talk about tacos.... I haven't eaten any of those in ages. And I love Mexican Food. Almost as much as Italian. Ooh, I want pizza! *steals Monnie's pizza*  
  
Hugs to all the 3rd floor people at FB, especially my roomies, Airy, Andy, Becca, Elle and Monnie. (See? Alphabetical order. No favouritism. Why are all our names at the beginning of the alphabet, except Monnie's? Weird. o__O)  
  
*~*~*  
  
Joey took the cup off the counter and sat down on the couch next to Phoebe. Ross coughed as he read a magazine in the armchair.  
  
"Hey, do you think they're alright?" said Joey, breaking the silence. Around them, there was a soft murmuring from other people sat in the coffeehouse. It was mid-morning, however, and most were at work. Outside, a bird hopped down the street, its chirp reaching Phoebe's ears, who awoke from her reverie and sat up.  
  
"What?" she asked, looking dazed.  
  
Joey looked around, sipping his coffee. "I said, do you think they're alright? Chandler and Monica, I mean."  
  
Phoebe looked at him. "Sure they will," she said simply. "I mean, it's Chandler and Monica, right? Nothing can hurt them. You look at them, and you see them together, and you know they're gonna be together forever. Nothing is stronger than true love. Well, except squirrels."  
  
Ross frowned, but his concern for his sister made him let it go for once. "But, wh- what if they're not?" he asked, shifting his position so he sat nearer. "Chandler's always been so afraid of commitment. How do we know this won't be too much for him?"  
  
Joey coughed. "But have you seen him with her? I mean, he's become a different person. I mean, it was great living with him, but he seems to have grown so much since then. He's so much happier, and I don't think there's any way he'd give that up. She needs him, and he knows that."  
  
Phoebe nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Ross, don't worry so much. We'll all be here as well, won't we?"  
  
Ross sighed. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I just always remembered Chandler as this scared guy who never thought he could stay with a woman properly. I guess I haven't realised properly that... he's changed."  
  
Phoebe nodded. "Yeah, you're often dumb like that," she said.  
  
Ross gasped silently in offence, but kept it to himself. "I just hope he realises what a special person he has to look after. I used to do that. She used to be my sister. But now he looks after her. Are you sure he knows how lucky he is?"  
  
"I'm sure," said Joey, picking up a magazine. "Now, stop worrying. That's not what she wants."  
  
Ross sighed, but let it go.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler swallowed and squeezed Monica's hand under the table.  
  
The doctor had been called away just as he'd sat down to talk to them, so they were left waiting in the office, their fear growing. Monica squeezed Chandler's hand harder, and he smiled at her.  
  
"It's going to be alright, Mon," he whispered, looking at her confused eyes lovingly.  
  
She looked down. "Are you sure?" she asked in a worried voice.  
  
He put his hand gently on her forehead and whispered into her ear. "I'm sure," he said.  
  
They both knew that that wasn't true. But Monica found a strange comfort in Chandler's words- to her ears at that moment; they were the truest words she'd ever heard.  
  
As they sat together in the room, silence descended upon them. Neither of them felt the need to talk. It was a kind of understanding silence, where they both knew what the other felt like, and didn't have to talk. Chandler felt Monica's body tense, and he put his hand on her cheek warmly. She looked down at it, and then kissed it lightly. He smiled at her, and her body warmed up at his warm look.  
  
They both looked around sharply as the door creaked open, and the doctor entered. She smiled briefly at them, and sat down at the desk opposite where they sat, hands still entwined.  
  
"So," said the doctor, shuffling some files. "How are you?" she asked Monica.  
  
Monica breathed deeply before she answered. "I'm okay. I- I told Chandler and my friends about it, like you said..." she said nervously.  
  
The doctor nodded. "Nice to meet you, Chandler," she said, shaking his hand over the desk. "I'm Dr. Waingrow."  
  
Chandler stifled a laugh, and smiled back. He looked at Monica, who grinned slyly.  
  
"Nice to meet you, too, Dr... Waingrow," said Chandler slowly. She smiled unknowingly back.  
  
Reaching up to grab a file from the top of a filing cabinet, the doctor coughed and looked at a sheet protruding from the file. "Yes, well, I suppose you're here to find out more," she said simply. "Well, Miss Geller, I can't say what you want to hear. Your condition is, however, in its early stages, and we may have caught it in time."  
  
Monica looked a little relieved, but Chandler still felt her body was tense.  
  
The doctor continued. You have what it is known as invasive carcinoma,  
  
Monica swallowed. "So.... what does invasive mean? Is that fatal?"  
  
"No..." said the doctor, slowly. "It can be, but it depends how far the cancer has spread. Invasive means the cancer has spread beyond the milk ducts, and may even have the potential to spread beyond the breasts. We're lucky- we seem to have caught it relatively early. We looked at the cells under a microscope, and no tumours have formed.... so you're not at a serious stage. However, they do have the potential to spread further and maybe even form tumours, so we need to treat you as soon as we can."  
  
Chandler nodded, and squeezed Monica's hand. "So... what treatment is there?"  
  
"Well, there are many treatments for cancer. Now, you said you wanted me to choose the best treatments for you. Are you still sure about that? You are welcome to be more involved in the process, if that's what you and your fiancé want."  
  
Monica gave Chandler a silent look, and he nodded.  
  
"Yes," said Monica simply.  
  
The doctor nodded. "Okay, well, we need to remove the cancerous area of the breast and any affected glands, which would require surgery. Are you okay with going through with that?"  
  
Chandler swallowed. He was starting to feel disorientated, and his vision went blurry. He heard Monica speak, but he couldn't make out the words. The room went a brilliant white, and Chandler gasped.  
  
"Chandler?" he heard suddenly, the words reaching his ears as clear as glass, echoing through his head. The white in front of his eyes started to fade, and the room slowly came back into normal vision.  
  
"Chandler?" he heard again, more urgently, and Monica came into view, looking frantic, and waving her hand in front of his face, her other hand on his leg still.  
  
He sat up straight. "Yes?" he said.  
  
The doctor looked understanding. "I know this can be hard," she said softly, making Monica and Chandler turn from each other, "but you need each other to get through this. The best cure, is having someone, whether it's a partner, parents, or friends, to get you through this. And it's just as hard for them, if not harder, to see what you're going through. She'll be able to cope as long as you're there."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler threw the keys down on the table.  
  
"Chandler, don't," said Monica in exasperation, as he disappeared into the bathroom. She followed.  
  
"Don't what?" he said innocently, splashing his face with water slowly, leaving the tap running slowly, its trickle an attempt at meditation.  
  
Monica sighed. "Don't shut me out, for a start," she said, standing in his way as he tried to leave. "We need to talk about this, or it will all fall apart."  
  
Chandler looked scornfully at her. "That's easy for you to say, you didn't have a panic attack in the middle of someone else's doctors appointment." He tried to leave, but she blocked him again. "Am I allowed to leave?"  
  
"No," said Monica immediately. "We are going to talk about this. We need to be able to talk, or... I don't know what will happen. Now, you're obviously not okay with this-"  
  
"I'm fine with it!" Chandler exclaimed. "I understand, and am totally supportive, there for you one hundred percent."  
  
Monica folded her arms. "No, you're not. If you were, you wouldn't be being so dismissive. If you were, you wouldn't have had a panic attack in the middle of my appointment." She softened her voice. "Chandler, it's okay that you're not okay with this. I know it's hard. But I need you. And I need you to be able to talk with me, and support me, and worry with me."  
  
He relaxed his hard expression, and it turned to one of worry. "I just- just didn't want you to be concerned with how I feel. I am totally there for you, and you know that. I know you know that. I'm sorry," he said, kissing her lightly on her lips. He started to move away again, but she leaned in, and kissed him harder, pushing him backwards.  
  
He broke away again. "Are you sure you want to?" he asked.  
  
She nodded. "I want YOU," she said simply.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica pushed the money into the payphone and dialled, tapping her foot impatiently.  
  
"Hello, Chandler Bing," she heard.  
  
"Hey sweetie, it's Monica," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "Where are you?"  
  
Chandler sighed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, but I'm stuck in a huge traffic jam, and it'll be ages before I get out. Will you be okay by yourself?"  
  
Monica shook her head furiously, but spoke calmly into the phone. "Yeah, I'll be fine."  
  
"I'm really sorry," he said again, over the sound of car horns and exhausts. "I knew I should have left earlier. Look, I've got to go, it looks like we're gonna move another two centimetres," he said. "I love you, okay?"  
  
Monica smiled. "I know," she said. "And I love you more."  
  
"Not possible," he said, and she heard his phone go off.  
  
She put the payphone back down and sighed.  
  
"Monica Geller to Dr. Garner," said the receptionist on the intercom. Monica sighed again, and walked down the corridor to the office. She breathed deeply. 


	5. Chapter Five: Fluffy White Clouds

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter Five: Fluffy White Clouds  
  
Disclaimer: You wanna hear this every time, don't you? You like what it does to me. You cruel, cruel people. Well, I'm not gonna say it. So :p  
  
A/N: Not much to say.... apart from my craziness is lacking today, so Airy gets no crazy A/N, and please review! I think this my weakest chapter yet, but you have to tell me that, or I might start getting big-headed... or I might be severely bummed that no one reviewed.  
  
Dedication: To Chris, who waited so patiently for this (sees glint of knife), and who was not at all threatening. Love ya Chris. *sees knife put away* Phew.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler brushed back the blinds and looked down at the streets, the cars resembling tiny dots from his high office window. He watched them, zooming past, sighing at the fast paced New York City life. Sometimes he wished everyone would just stop, and give themselves time to think, time to breath.  
  
A truck steamed by on the street below, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. For a moment, the people nearby stopped, coughing and spluttering. But then they moved on, walking again at hyper speed to get to their dead end, nine to five jobs, as the clock struck the hour.  
  
Chandler turned away from the window, shaking his head. The world moved so fast. No one had time to deal with their problems properly.  
  
All this had come upon him so quickly. It had been only a week since Monica had told him about the cancer, and he'd had no time to think. Doctor's appointments every day. Having to sit there, listening to the plans for his wife.  
  
Surgery was in a week.  
  
Chandler needed time. He knew it was Monica, not him, who was ill, who would undergo surgery... but she was his love, his girl... his one.  
  
And he was going through just as much pain as her. Mentally. But it didn't matter, because she was the ill one. He just had to be there for support, for help. It didn't matter how he felt. He just had to deal with it.  
  
He hadn't been able to face today's appointment. He'd made up an excuse about being stuck in a traffic jam, when in fact all he'd been doing was standing on the sidewalk outside of his office building - tears rolling down his face. Tears of fear. Tears of disappointment.  
  
Tears of guilt.  
  
Guilt. Guilt that he wasn't there when she needed him the most.  
  
He sat down at his desk, swinging in his chair with his head in his hands.  
  
Why should it matter about him? Why should it matter about the pain he was going through, seeing the love of his life go through such heartache? Why should it matter that he didn't know if he could deal with it, let alone how?  
  
He didn't know what to do. He knew she needed him, needed him to be supportive. But he wasn't sure if he could do that.  
  
He'd almost collapsed in the first appointment. How would he be able to cope, when she was... in there... having... that done?  
  
Tears came just thinking about it. He knew he should be there, he wanted to be there... but he wasn't sure if he could handle it. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He loved Monica, he always would... but being there with her might be the thing that destroys them.  
  
He stood up again, running a hand across off his forehead, feeling the sweat starting to gather there. He took off his jacket, throwing it over the chair at his desk. He pushed back the blinds again, looking out onto the horizon. Fluffy white clouds were scattered across the sky, floating harmlessly over the clear cut blue sky.  
  
Why couldn't his life be simple, clear cut? Why couldn't his life be made from fluffy white clouds?  
  
*~*~*  
  
Suddenly, I'm not half to man I used to be, There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Rachel looked up as Phoebe put her cup down on the table, and sat down next to Rachel. "Hey," said Rachel, not looking up from her magazine.  
  
"Hey," said Phoebe, taking a sip from her coffee. "What are you reading?"  
  
Rachel shoved the magazine out of sight. "Nothing," she said innocently.  
  
Phoebe frowned. "Come on, Rach," she said, trying to lean across and grab the magazine. "Why won't you let me see?"  
  
Rachel sighed, and let go of the magazine.  
  
Phoebe looked down, and gasped. "Rachel, this is a breast cancer article! Why are you reading that?"  
  
Rachel looked at her. "I just wanted to.... to know more about it. You know, for Monica."  
  
Phoebe smiled. "Aww, that's sweet, Rach. Can I read?"  
  
Rachel paused. "Yeah, I guess," she said, pulling the magazine into the middle of their legs. "Look, here, it says that 192,000 women are diagnosed each year."  
  
Phoebe looked at her. "I didn't realise there were so many," she whispered.  
  
Rachel sighed. "And Monica's one of them."  
  
Phoebe sighed too. "We have to support her," she said. "She needs us."  
  
Rachel nodded. "Pheebs?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I know it's... selfish of me to even think this, but I hope I never get breast cancer."  
  
Phoebe nodded. "I know. That's why we have to be there with Monica. We can't just watch it. We have to help her."  
  
"Do you think she's okay?"  
  
Phoebe smiled. "I'm sure she's fine," she said. "I mean, Chandler's with her. You know as well as I do how much he loves her."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica tapped her fingers nervously as she waited for Chandler to arrive. She'd caught a taxi there, but it was late and all the taxis were taken. Besides, with all the traffic outside, it was impossible to even get near one.  
  
Her heart was beating fast, so fast, she almost felt like it was coming out of her chest.  
  
She felt like she was in a maze, lost in the tall hedges, and couldn't find her way out. Everywhere she turned was a dead end, and she had to keep turning back. She kept calling out Chandler's name, but he never came.  
  
She was pregnant.  
  
She had breast cancer, and she was pregnant.  
  
What was she supposed to do now? It was impossible. She'd waited her whole life for a child, and now one had come- at the worst possible time.  
  
The doctor had said it would work- she could still have the baby. But Monica wasn't sure whether that was the best thing. A child, while she goes through breast cancer treatment? A child, who reminds her always of this awful time? A child, who has always been wanted- except when it decided to come?  
  
Monica looked around the room, observing all the waiting patients. A frazzled looking woman sat asleep in her chair, her children pulling things out of her purse as she snored. Monica smiled at them as one looked over at her, and then went back to throwing her mother's keys into a plant pot.  
  
Monica felt fresh tears prick at her eyes, wiping them gently before they started rolling down her cheeks. Crying was the worst thing she could do. She needed to stay strong, or else she'd never get through this.  
  
Children were so adorable to Monica, even when they were at their worst. Looking after Ben had been the highlight of Monica's days back when she had been a lowly diner waitress, and she still loved spending time with him. But he was growing up, and she already felt her nephew drawing away from her, towards his friends, towards his own life. She was just Aunt Monica, fun at organised indoor activities, there whenever you need her, but you never really did.  
  
She desperately wanted children of her own. And looking at the two children on the floor, now retrieving the things they had dispersed through the room and playing with them, Monica's heart ached to hold a child in her arms, to kiss her child goodnight. To read them bedtime stories, to push them on the swings- to love them.  
  
But to have a child like this, always serving a constant reminder of her illness.... it wouldn't be fair to the child. She'd never be able to look at it without remembering this time. And she didn't want that. She wanted her child to be loved as much as she could, with all her heart.  
  
She didn't know what to do.  
  
She needed Chandler.  
  
He'd been great for the past week, always there at the appointment's, hardly ever leaving her alone, skipping work altogether on a couple of days, always putting on a brave face.  
  
But she had seen him when he thought he was alone, crying, his head in his hands, looking utterly exhausted. She had tried to tell him that he didn't have to do all this, but he wouldn't listen, insisting that he had to.  
  
But she couldn't let him. She loved him, more than anyone, ever... and she didn't like to see him go through this. If anything, it made her feel worse, all this pressure on him, all the work.... And she loved him too much to let him go through this.  
  
Chandler.  
  
She looked up, hearing footsteps quickening as he grew nearer, and she stood up, smiling at him, as he sped up to a run, falling into her outstretched arms. He held her tight, smelling in the scent of her hair, and burying his face in her shoulder.  
  
"Monica," he said, muffled. "I'm so, so so sorry, sweetie."  
  
She smiled as they pulled apart, giving him a light kiss on the lips in a sign of forgiveness. "That's okay," she whispered. "I understand."  
  
Chandler smiled. "So?" he said impatiently. "What did the doctor say?"  
  
Monica swallowed. "Well.... I went in with something to tell her, so we spent most of the appointment talking about that," she said slowly and warily.  
  
Chandler waved his hand impatiently. "And, and?"  
  
"I'm pregnant."  
  
Chandler froze.  
  
Monica felt tears at her cheeks again, even though this was exactly what she's expected. "Chandler, please, says something," she said, pleadingly.  
  
Chandler's eyes moved to look at her, the rest of his body still frozen. "What?" he said.  
  
Monica looked down sadly. "I'm- I'm pregnant, Chandler. I'm going to have a baby."  
  
Chandler suddenly started moving again, his movements jerky and erratic, looking around at the floor, anywhere but at Monica. "This- this is impossible," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "You- you can't be- no- it's impossible..." he said, chattering.  
  
Monica attempted to grab his hand, but he pulled it away, staring at her. "I- I gotta go," he said, turning away.  
  
Monica touched his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, walking away. He sped up to a run as they reached the hospital doors, Monica following as best she could, her breath running out quickly.  
  
"Chandler!" she yelled, as she stopped, her breath quickened, and she saw him vanish down the street, lost in a haze of cars and people, all rushing in the busy city centre. 


	6. Chapter Six: And As The Rain, It Falls

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter Six: And As The Rain, It Falls  
  
A/N: And chapter 6 is finally here! Sorry, especially to Chris, that it took so long, but I had a busy few weeks, overloaded with schoolwork, and a small case of writer's block. But I'm back, and ready to write! Well, I've already written, as you can see.... Okay, shut up, David....  
  
Now, to deal with the quibble of Monica being pregnant- as I posted in my profile: "Just a note: with regard to In A Lifetime, people have been saying that it is not possible to have breast cancer and be pregnant at the same time. But since Monica has not currently undergone any treatment, it is possible for her to be pregnant. I have done my research, and it is possible to have breast cancer and be pregnant at the same time, if not very common." Now, does that clear it up?  
  
Thanks for all the great reviews, and I sincerely hope you will do so again. This is a more upbeat chapter, but don't expect it to last....  
  
*~*~*  
  
She watched the rain drip from the trees, falling onto the leaves, and then dropping as the leaves bent under the tiny weight of the droplets, curving downward, towards the earth.  
  
They fell slowly, hitting the ground with a sound that echoed unnaturally loudly through her head, almost like shots, hitting her again and again.  
  
He sat silently; seeming frozen beneath the canopy of trees, rain occasionally hitting him, but mostly steering clear. He didn't look up at anything, not even when a child running from his frazzled looking mother ran into his knees accidentally. The kid ran on, the mother shouting wearily after him, not bothering to apologise to the downcast looking man on the small park bench.  
  
Monica stepped to the side as the kid ran past her, looking after him sorrowfully, and giving the mother a short smile, which was weakly returned.  
  
Monica wished she had a kid she could get stressed out over. But she didn't want to be the only one who got stressed.  
  
She wanted him, to help her in those times. Him, to be with her when she needed him.  
  
Him, to not run away.  
  
She watched him again, still unmoving on his harsh bench, and she sighed. Life had become so complicated.  
  
Just two weeks ago she had sat on that very bench, becoming drenched by a thunderstorm, but she had been impervious to the rain.  
  
She felt the rain push her hair against her damp skin, and she felt it. It felt almost like it were joined, seamlessly attached to her. She pushed it away, throwing her hair over her shoulder, and felt water fall off it to the ground.  
  
She slowly began to walk toward the bench, her footsteps silent, and passed under a tall tree, the leaves dripping water onto her.  
  
She cautiously took a seat next to him on the edge of the wood, folding her coat under her so her trousers did not become stained by the residue on the bench, and looked out onto the park, like Chandler had been. She studied the trees, the bushes, the flowers. She looked for the drops falling through the trees, and the sun hidden behind. Behind all this.  
  
"I couldn't stay there," he said suddenly. He had given no sign of acknowledgement, and he didn't look at her, but she took this as his greeting.  
  
"Why not?" she answered smoothly, but shaking inside.  
  
He brushed a droplet off his knee, and looked down at a leaf, which blew gently past in the breeze. "It was- it was too much," he answered slowly.  
  
Monica pulled her coat tighter around herself as the breeze blew harder, hitting her side, and blowing the worsening rain directly onto her cheeks. "What was?" she shivered.  
  
"Everything," he answered simply. Monica said nothing, implying to Chandler that she didn't quite grasp what he was trying to say. "I mean.... Monica, I could barely cope with the cancer, and now the baby.... it's too hard, Mon," he said, a hint of hurt entering his voice. Both were still facing forward, Monica watching the leaves gust in the wind, Chandler staring intently at the ground, oddly intrigued by a squashed piece of gum.  
  
Monica swallowed. "I don't understand, Chandler.... I mean, it's me that this is all happening to. Not you."  
  
"I know," said Chandler quietly. "And I'm amazed that you're strong enough to cope with all this, Mon. Because I can't." He paused; trying to phrase his next words before letting his lips release them into the waiting air. "You know how I'd freak out if you were pregnant full stop, but to have it come at the same time as you having cancer...." He trailed off, knowing she had understood.  
  
She stayed silent for a while, trying to take in his words at the same time as manufacturing a response.  
  
"Chandler," she said softly, daring to lightly touch his hand, which lay on his thigh. She did this nervously; scared he may recoil after having sat there in solitude for over an hour. But he did nothing but move his hand over it, rubbing it, warming the blood flowing through it. "You're not like you used to be. You know how I know that?" She paused, but he said nothing. "Because you admit that it would freak you out," she whispered, her damp hair brushing his cheek as she turned her head. "You never used to admit that. But you just did. And that... it's the first sign that you're not as scared as you'd like to think." She stopped, breathing silently in, watching Chandler's face.  
  
He slowly turned his eyes upward, and they met Monica's shining blue ones. He didn't smile; his face showed a silent burning love for her. She saw it deep inside his eyes, inside his very soul. She smiled lightly at him, her lips curling upwards beautifully. Chandler marvelled at how such a small change in expression could make his heartbeat go a hundred times faster.  
  
"But...." he said tentatively, and she looked up, her expression curious. "It's still hard." He shifted his position so his body faced his fiancée.  
  
She smiled. "I know," she said, touching his cheek lightly. "But you can do it. And I need you to do it," she said, rubbing his hand, now resting on the liquid-covered bench. "I know I didn't exactly run away, but this is going to be hard, Chandler. And I love you. I need you to get me through. If you're not there... I don't know what I'll do."  
  
He smiled at her, watching her lips curl upward again, and he touched his lips to hers, meeting in a tender, soft kiss. She closed her eyes, letting his wet hands caress her damp hair, feeling the rain fall onto them, making soft pattering sounds as it fell onto her coat.  
  
They slowly broke apart, still feeling the other's touch on their hungry lips.  
  
"This was where I sat," whispered Monica, her hand enclosed in his. "When I found out, I came here to think." She closed her eyes. "It was raining," she said quietly. "Remember?" she asked. "I came home soaked, and you were so concerned.... And then later, I told you I had cancer. How ironic," she said, opening her eyes again and looking at the floor.  
  
He pulled her close, and spoke into her ear, even though the park was deserted in the worsening rainstorm, it was now. "Monica...." he said, "I'd worry about you if a bug was on your coat, okay? I'd worry if you burnt a meal at the restaurant. I'd worry if you dropped your book on your foot. I love you so much," he whispered, kissing her hair affectionately, and she smiled up at him, her head resting on his chest.  
  
"I love you too," she said, squeezing his hand. And she let the rain pour down on her- it didn't matter if she got soaked, because he was there with her, getting soaked too.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica lightly tapped at the green door, not wanting to disturb any activity. After a few seconds, the door creaked open, and Rachel stood there, a questioning look on her face.  
  
"Hi," she greeted. "What's up? It's almost midnight," she said, indicating the clock behind her.  
  
"I know," said Monica hurriedly. "But we need to talk to you," she said, and Rachel stepped back.  
  
"Is Joey in?" asked Chandler.  
  
Rachel coughed. "Yeah, but he's.... he's kinda busy right now," she said obviously, her point affirmed by a series of giggles floating from Joey's bedroom.  
  
Monica smiled, shaking her head. "Okay," she laughed. "Well, we... we have some news," she said, and motioned for Rachel to sit. She and Chandler took up seats on the green breakfast stools, while Rachel settled into the barcalounger.  
  
"What is it?" asked Rachel, leaning forward in interest.  
  
Chandler looked to Monica.  
  
"Well..." she said slowly, "I'm pregnant."  
  
Rachel's eyes widened. "What?" she said.  
  
"We're pregnant," repeated Chandler. "Something's not getting through, Mon," he joked, making Monica smile.  
  
Rachel looked confused. "B-But how-how can you be pr-pregnant?" she stuttered in bewilderment. "I mean, even if you were, wouldn't all the radio waves and stuff have... killed it?" she asked, frowning.  
  
"I haven't had any radiotherapy or anything yet, so it wouldn't have been killed. The doctor said she's just glad that we found out about the baby before we started any treatment like that," said Monica.  
  
Rachel continued to frown. "Are you keeping it?" she asked.  
  
"I think so," replied Monica, looking to Chandler.  
  
He nodded. "It was a little scary at first," he admitted, "but... it's right."  
  
Rachel didn't look happy. "But what if-"she stopped dead, realizing what she was about to say.  
  
"What if what?" asked Monica.  
  
Rachel looked away. "Well... what if you... don't get through it without needing some kind of radio treatment?" she asked, concern filling her face.  
  
Chandler looked at Monica. She smiled.  
  
"The doctor said that I should be fine without needing that stuff, Rach," she said. "They caught it early- chances are I'll be fine."  
  
Rachel wasn't convinced, but she squashed her uprising feelings of doubt and smiled. "Well, then... that's great!" she exclaimed, leaping up to hug them. Her arms enveloped Monica, and Chandler wrapped his around both of the women, squeezing then lightly before breaking away again.  
  
Rachel smiled wider. "Well..." she said, glancing at the clock, "it's late. I'm gonna go to be- "She was interrupted by sounds, increasing in noise, from Joey's bedroom. Monica and Rachel both flushed pink, and Chandler hurried his fiancée out, giving Rachel a wry smile as the door shut behind them.  
  
Rachel ran to the bathroom, emerging a minute later with cotton buds sticking slightly from her ears.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler looked over the rim of his glasses as Monica re-entered the apartment, filing through the post with a look of light interest.  
  
"Anything interesting?" he asked, closing the newspaper and putting it onto the table.  
  
Monica looked up at him. "Well, unless you count bills as interesting..." she said, throwing the envelopes in his direction. "But I did get an advert for the new Wonder Mop model," she said happily, studying it with a smile.  
  
Chandler laughed internally, and walked over to her, surprising her with a tickle, making her bend over, laughing in pain.  
  
"Chandler!" she moaned, giggling. He smiled at her, and kissed her neck affectionately, putting his arms around her.  
  
"You know you love me for it," he teased, kissing her cheek.  
  
Monica smiled. "Maybe, but I'd love you a lot more if you didn't do it every day," she said, ducking out of his arms and running to her bedroom, laughing as he grabbed at her shirt, missing.  
  
"Oh, honey, don't forget, we have that meeting with the wedding planner today," she called, over a rustling of clothes.  
  
"I know," he called back, piling some magazines up on the coffee table, hoping Monica hadn't seen them. "I've got the afternoon off."  
  
She came back into the living room. "And the morning too, by the looks of it," she said, indicating the clock, which read 9 am.  
  
Chandler gave her a sarcastic look. "No..." he said, sitting down next to her on the couch, "It's a late start today, 'cause they're... remodeling offices, or something, and they don't need as many people in."  
  
Monica frowned. "So what's the point of you going in at all?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, there's some important meeting that I have to be at... and don't ask me why it's on while they're remodeling, my office is very weird," he said.  
  
Monica shook her head in disbelief. "But you'll be there at one, right?"  
  
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"So," said the wedding planner, Jennifer, "Where do you want to start?"  
  
She sat opposite Chandler and Monica, hands joined between their chairs, hidden under the desk.  
  
The room was flooded with light; the large windows behind Jennifer alight with a dancing sun, which was high in the sky. The sky was clear; the exact opposite of the weather just two days ago. There was not a cloud to be seen in the sky- it was a crystal clear blue, constantly the one color, almost like a blank canvas.  
  
White walls in the room reflected light around the room, and light bounced off various framed pictures around the room. Monet, Rembrandt, Van Gogh... Jennifer was evidently big on art, thought Monica. She had met with Jennifer before, but never taken in the beauty of the office before. Maybe it had always been dark out before, she mused.  
  
Monica had agreed to the idea of a wedding planner when she was diagnosed with cancer, admitting that it would be too much for her to handle all by herself. She had insisted that she still have a part in getting everything together- she had simply taken on some extra help. And Jennifer had turned out to be a good find. She was friendly, took interest in everything that was talked about, and, as Chandler pointed out to Monica's initial chagrin, she was not too bad on the eye.  
  
Chandler's voice brought her back to the point at hand.  
  
"... haven't settled on a location yet," he was saying. "We thought somewhere simple, not over the top," he said. "Maybe a hotel or something like that. We want it to be an understated ceremony, right Mon?" he asked, looking at her with a small smile.  
  
She nodded. "Nothing too... elaborate," she said to Jennifer, who nodded.  
  
"Right, well, a hotel sounds a good place for that, or you go for a favorite location, perhaps?" suggested Jennifer, looking up from her notes for a second.  
  
Monica looked at Chandler. "What about the park?" she suggested, remembering their conversation in the rain.  
  
He smiled, immediately indicating that he loved the idea.  
  
"Yes?" asked Jennifer, smiling too, although with no idea of the significance of the park.  
  
They both nodded, in sync.  
  
Jennifer smiled, scribbling down a note. "Okay, excellent!" she exclaimed, smiling. "I'll make sure everything will be fine for the date you gave me last time," she said, pointing to it on her notes.  
  
Monica leaned forward. "Yeah... can we change that?"  
  
Jennifer looked up. "Oh... can I ask why?"  
  
Chandler looked curious too, and they both looked at Monica.  
  
"Well..." she said slowly, "It's just... I wanted to have it on a Wednesday, because, well.... I remembered that was the day of the week we first... got together," she said, blushing a little.  
  
Chandler smiled in surprise, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. Jennifer accepted it straight away and noted it down, smiling at them when she finished.  
  
"So, that's Wednesday 16th May in Central Park?" asked Jennifer for confirmation, and they both nodded. She smiled. "Okay, great! Now, let's get started on the smaller details..."  
  
Monica smiled happily as Jennifer started to discuss the catering arrangements. She looked at Chandler, who was listening intently to Jennifer, and she smiled.  
  
Everything seemed to be going right again. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Believe The Light In You

In A Lifetime  
  
Chapter Seven: Believe The Light In You  
  
Disclaimer: Not-not-mine, not-not-mine... [/Phoebe]  
  
A/N: Was it too long a wait? Well, I AM writing three fics at the same time... what a mistake. Anyway...  
  
Sorry if the way what happens at the end is the wrong way it would happen, but my proofer said you're more focused on the emotions, so it doesn't matter much. This chapter it the longest yet, at just over 3000 words, and I hope sincerely you enjoy it. Especially Chris, who managed to not get out her knife this time. ;)  
  
Dedication: A three-way dedication: To Pie, my proofer, Becca, my adviser, and Chris, my inspiration. She eggs me on. ;) Love y'all. :D  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Are you awake?"  
  
He spoke his words to the silent air, his breath slightly misting the dark room. It rose slowly, glowing dully in the slim light that peeped through the concealed window. Beside the bed, the clock ticked quietly, telling of its hand's movement around the face.  
  
He stared up at the ceiling, the lampshade becoming clearer as his tired eyes adjusted to the light, the room becoming lighter, as it did when you had lain awake for a while.  
  
He shivered, and pulled the covers over himself, wrapping them tighter on his left side.  
  
"No," came the quiet reply.  
  
He turned his body over, causing the bed to bounce slightly, and saw that Monica was staring upward too, her eyes boring into the ceiling. The sheet was pulled tightly around her, everything below her neckline covered in light blue blanket.  
  
"Are you cold?" he asked, speaking softly, his mouth in close proximity to her ear.  
  
She looked at him, her face still facing forward, and he saw the answer in her eyes. He pushed his hand under her body, and moved in around her, his arms creating a barrier from the cold around her.  
  
She smiled up at his face, which then came to rest upon the pillow, her hair tickling his chin slightly.  
  
"It'll be fine," she said, her lips grazing his cheek as she spoke.  
  
"I know," he whispered, brushing his lips over hers as she turned her body into his, their eyes meeting. "I'm just... a little scared, y'know?"  
  
She nodded as best she could, her head sliding over the pillow. "I know."  
  
"Just promise me... promise me you'll be okay," he said softly.  
  
She looked sadly at him. "You know I can't do that," she said. "It's not under my control. And it's not under yours either, Chandler." She closed her eyes, a tear trickling from the corner of her eye. "It's not under out control," she whispered to herself.  
  
Chandler lightly brushed the tear from her cheek and kissed the spot upon which it had lain, tightening his grip around her, pulling her closer to his body, feeling the heat radiating from her body. He breathed softly, the air grazing her cheek.  
  
"I'll be okay," she breathed. "I'll be okay."  
  
"I know," he said quietly, closing his eyes.  
  
"I love you," she whispered.  
  
"I know that too," he told her, as they both started to fall asleep, bodies locked together in a tight embrace. "But I love you more..."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler heard the water trickling down through the wall, hearing it hit the floor of the shower as it fell over Monica's body.  
  
He sighed, and walked away from his position near the bathroom, moving into the kitchen, where he poured himself a bowl of cereal. He sat down at the table, rifting through the mail he had already collected as he crunched spoonfuls of his breakfast slowly, with disinterest.  
  
He threw the mail, mostly consisting of bills, back onto the other side of the table, and picked up his bowl, heading to the couch.  
  
He flicked on the television, searching for anything that could get his mind off the impending appointment. He quickly changed from the news, knowing that would only make him more depressed. He hopped from a cartoon show, having lost interest in those as he had moved over the hall.  
  
Finally, settling on a movie, that he recognized to be Manhattan, he sunk slightly into the couch, balancing the bowl on his chest, taking small handfuls as he stared at the screen, trying to get himself into the movie and away from his life.  
  
He heard the water in the bathroom desist, and began increasingly transfixed to the screen, trying to listen to the quiet scene that happened to be on at that particular time. Giving up, he clicked the off button, and Woody Allen's face vanished mid-sentence.  
  
Chandler put his bowl down on the coffee table, ignoring the fact that it was still almost full, and walked into the bathroom. He immediately caught sight of Monica's velvet skin, shining in the early morning sun, showing above the soft white towel she had wrapped around herself.  
  
She turned as he entered, and smiled at him.  
  
"Morning," she said, as he put his arms around her from behind and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
He smiled at her from her shoulder. "Morning," he whispered into her ear, rubbing the towel fabric softly.  
  
"You scared?" he asked her, as she slipped slowly out of his arms and reaching for another towel to dry her hair with.  
  
"Would you believe me if I said no?" she replied.  
  
"No," he smiled. "And I'm glad you didn't," he said.  
  
She frowned at him, shaking her head slightly, small water droplets hitting Chandler's jeans. "Why's that?" she asked.  
  
"Because if you'd lied, then you would have been denying your feelings, and it would just have hurt more when you admitted them. Plus, I would have felt like you were lying to me, when we're supposed to be in a totally honest and trusting relationship," he finished, breathing a little quicker than usual.  
  
She paused, staring at him. "Where'd you get that from?" she asked incredulously.  
  
He faked hurt. "Hey, I-"  
  
"Chandler."  
  
"I found that marriage book you'd bought to give me in the closet," he admitting, looking down.  
  
She groaned. "Chandler!" she said, hitting him lightly.  
  
He gave her a mischievous smile, and kissed her on the cheek again.  
  
She pulled her towel tighter. "I need to get dry," she said pointedly.  
  
He nodded, and turned to leave, but he turned back before he opened the door.  
  
"Monica?" he said, making her look up from drying the hair.  
  
"Yeah?" she asked.  
  
He moved slowly and tentatively forward, swinging his arms shakily. "Can I... can I dry you?" he said.  
  
She stared at him, and he froze in place, scared of her reaction.  
  
"Wh-Why?" she said finally, frowning at him.  
  
He looked down, appearing rather flushed. "I just... wanted to see you... once more befo- before... y'know," he stammered.  
  
She looked at him, a small smile playing on her face. But it was one of sadness, and wistfulness.  
  
"Chandler... is this going to change everything?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head. "No, it won't change how I feel about you. You'll still be absolutely beautiful to me. I'm just... afraid how it'll change you, and what you let me be part of," he said slowly.  
  
She smiled, and moved forward, her hand grazing his cheek in affection. "Chandler... it's not going to change. We have no secrets, nothing hidden, and this is no different." She brushed her lips over his. "I love you, and I always will. And we'll have no secrets," she whispered.  
  
He closed his eyes as she flickered her tongue over his lips, trying to stop his own tongue from imitation. "Can I still do it?" he said breathlessly, moving his hands over her bare skin.  
  
She nodded as her lips slid over his.  
  
Chandler unhooked the towel from her waist and slowly took it in his hands. He placed it lightly over her neck, and caressed her skin through it, wiping the water droplets off it one by one, as Monica closed her eyes, unmoving as her fiancée rubbed her skin with a silken touch, the cotton sliding over her skin like velvet.  
  
"Chandler?" she whispered.  
  
"Yeah?" he said almost silently, moving the towel slightly.  
  
"I don't want to lose you," she whispered.  
  
He looked up, his eyes suddenly filled with fear, but he said nothing, and continued to dry her with the towel, taking in every inch of her smooth, flawless skin.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler picked the bag from the bed, his knees buckling under the weight, and he made his way back into the living room, where Monica was standing by the doorway, impatiently tapping her foot.  
  
"Come on, Chandler!" she moaned, waving him over.  
  
He put the bag down as he reached her, and frowned at her. "Monica... this is VERY heavy, you know."  
  
Her expression didn't change. "Chandler..."  
  
"I know, I know, we're late," he said sullenly, grabbing his coat from the hook and pushing his arms into it. "Do you want your coat?" he asked, and she nodded, suddenly rather muted.  
  
He helped her zip it up, and then he reached down for the bag, groaning slightly as he picked it back up. "You know, this is really, REALLY he-" He stopped, seeing Monica's frozen expression. "Mon?" he said, slowly moving toward her.  
  
"Yes?" she said suddenly, scaring him as she regained movement.  
  
He rubbed her arm. "Are you... okay?" he asked.  
  
She looked down at his arm, then up at his face. "Me?" she asked. "I'm fine," she said, nodding fervently.  
  
"Monica..." Chandler said softly, lifting her chin up slightly.  
  
She looked at him, and he saw the fear in her eyes.  
  
"Okay, fine!" she said. "I'm scared as hell, okay?" she said in annoyance, turning away, tears flying from her eyes.  
  
He sighed, and enveloped her hand in his, rubbing it gently as he spoke. "I thought we went through this, Mon... it's okay for you to be scared."  
  
She tried to smile, but the fear remained in her eyes, and she looked away, trying to wipe away her tears unnoticed.  
  
"Monica..." Chandler said.  
  
"Come on," she said, trying to ignore his words and motioning him out the door. "We've got to go."  
  
He opened his mouth again, but thought the better of it. He picked up the bag again, and followed her down the stairwell to the car.  
  
She leant against the window as he pushed the bag into the back seat, slamming the door a little harder than he meant to. He avoided her gaze as he locked the doors again, listening for the click above the noise of the city.  
  
She slid her hand cautiously into his as they walked over to the door of the coffeehouse, and was surprised, with his current mood, that he didn't recoil. If anything, his grip tightened around her hand.  
  
He pushed the door of the coffeehouse open, and let her walk through first, their hands still firmly attached. The others were all there already, coffee cups clasped firmly in Ross and Phoebe's hands, with Joey snoring audibly in the armchair, and Rachel talking quietly into her cell phone.  
  
Phoebe jumped up when she saw them, running over, which made Ross and Rachel look around, and they followed Phoebe over, Joey still sound asleep in his chair.  
  
"Is it now?" asked Rachel simply, looking from Monica to Chandler and back again.  
  
They both nodded, staying silent.  
  
Rachel hugged Chandler firmly, and whispered quietly into his ear. "Look after her."  
  
He nodded slightly at her as she moved to hug Monica, and returned Phoebe's kiss on the cheek. Ross just gave him a meaningful look before hugging him too, and moving over to talk quietly with Monica.  
  
Phoebe looked down at Joey as he grunted in his sleep, and smiled slightly. "Joey," she said. He didn't move. "Joey," she said a bit louder, but he still didn't move. "Joey!" she yelled, making everyone in the coffeehouse look at her, and causing Joey to leap out of his chair in alarm.  
  
"What?" he said, as the people turned away, and he rubbed his eyes.  
  
Phoebe pushed him toward the doorway. "Monica and Chandler are going," she said.  
  
Joey frowned at her, still squinting. "Going where?"  
  
She stared at him. "Going," she said pointedly.  
  
He still frowned for a second, and they could all see his brain going through the thought processes... then he realized and his face lit up in realization. "Oh!" he exclaimed, making the others smile momentarily.  
  
Their faces dropped in tandem, as Joey made his way over, enveloping Chandler in a fierce hug, whispering words similar to Rachel's into his ear.  
  
For a moment, he just stared at Monica, and she looked back, trying not to let her nerve break.  
  
She jumped slightly when he hugged her too, his hands wrapping around her back. She felt, with surprise, dry salty tears fall onto her exposed neckline, and when he pulled away, she saw him wipe his eyes embarrassedly.  
  
"Good luck," he whispered, and she nodded.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica tapped her fingers in no particular rhythm as the car sped down the dusty street, the wind helping the car to pick up tiny particles as it blew about in the cold outside.  
  
She looked over at Chandler, whose face faced the road. He swerved around a stationery van parked at the side of the road, exhaling in annoyance at the driver.  
  
The car came to a halt at a set of traffic lights, two cars in the queue ahead of them. Chandler pressed down a button beside him, and the window lowered, the wind immediately blowing full into Monica's face, causing her hair to get momentarily caught in her mouth.  
  
Chandler saw and made the window go back up, leaving a small crack at the top.  
  
The sound of a ring tone could suddenly be heard, and Monica reached behind her into her bag, pulling her cell phone from it quickly. She jumped as the car began to move again, and slowly sat back in her chair, letting her heartbeat recede before she answered the phone.  
  
"Hello?" she said softly, as Chandler cut past a slow moving truck.  
  
"How's my little HarMonica?" said her Dad cheerfully, and Monica smiled.  
  
Chandler glanced at her. "Who is it?" he asked, taking one hand off the wheel to turn the radio down.  
  
Monica put her hand over the mouthpiece. "My Dad," she answered, then spoke into the phone. "Hey Dad! How are you?" she asked, trying to inject happiness into her voice.  
  
"I'm fine," he answered. "But how are you?" he pressed. "Is it... is it today?" he questioned cautiously.  
  
She smiled ruefully. "Yes, it's today. We're on our way to the hospital right now," she said.  
  
"Oh. Are you okay?" he asked, and she heard the clear-cut worry in his voice.  
  
"I'm okay," she answered. "And Chandler's fine too," she said, knowing the next question.  
  
He sighed. "I'm glad. I hope everything goes okay. I was just phoning to check everything was okay," he said slowly.  
  
"Thanks Dad," she said. "How's Mom?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, she's still a little under the weather, but she'll be okay. The doctor said it was just a bug," he reassured her.  
  
"That's great, Dad," she smiled. "Oh, we're coming up to a tunnel. I'll see you soon, okay?"  
  
"Okay," he said. "Love you, Monica," he said, and then the line went fuzzy as the car was immersed in darkness.  
  
"Love you too," she whispered, and clicked the line off, fumbling it back into her bag.  
  
Chandler looked at her in confusion as he steered the car through the tunnel. "Why did you ask about your mom?" he asked.  
  
Monica looked at him. "She's got the flu," she answered plainly.  
  
"But I thought you wouldn't care," he commented, pulling the car round a sharp corner which exited the tunnel.  
  
She frowned at him. "She's my mother, Chandler. Just because she... treated me like dirt as a child, and always thought I was a failure and Ross was wonderful... doesn't mean I don't... love her," she finished, as tears started rolling down her cheeks.  
  
Chandler sighed, and pulled over into the first available side street to stop the car. He pulled a sobbing Monica into his arms, rested her head on his shoulder, and rocked her, stroking her hair affectionately.  
  
She looked up, tears still streaming from her eyes, and saw the sadness in his eyes as he stared out of the front window.  
  
It was midday, and the sun was at its height, the raindrops that had settled on the ground sparkling in the golden rays. Pools of rainwater lay on the roads, thrown up onto the sidewalk as cars passed, all the drivers in a hurry to get to wherever they were going.  
  
Chandler felt Monica move on his shoulder, and shifted his weight so her head lay upon his chest. He kissed her hair softly, and let it lie over his shirt, tickling his throat as the breeze blew in through the opened window.  
  
"We're going to be late," she whispered.  
  
"I know," he said, almost silently.  
  
She smiled slightly. "And let me guess... you don't care?" she said teasingly.  
  
He caressed her lips gently with a fingertip, staring into her sparkling eyes. "Do you?" he said simply.  
  
"No," she said, making no sound, but he saw her words.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica stared through the tiny window, seeing nothing but black. The rays of the sun moved and suddenly sparkled on the glass, dancing in front of Monica's fearful eyes.  
  
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice cracking.  
  
"Two minutes," he answered, hugging her to him tightly. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "I'll be here the whole time."  
  
"I know," she answered. "I know."  
  
They sat down again in the chairs behind them, Monica gripping the arms securely. She tried to keep her body steady, but she was shaking with uncontrollable nervousness.  
  
She tried to stop her mind from asking the unanswerable questions: what if it goes wrong? What if I don't survive? What if I never see Chandler again?  
  
She looked at him. He was staring at his shoes, his gaze solid, but not all there. She tapped his arm, and he looked up sharply.  
  
"It's time," she said.  
  
He gulped audibly, and grasped her hand as they walked down the corridor, avoiding the gaze of the few people they passed.  
  
He stopped dead as they turned another corner. "There it is," he pointed.  
  
She turned to him. "I love you," she whispered softly.  
  
"I love you too," he said, and kissed her lips softly. As he pulled away, she leaned up, and captured them in a deeper kiss, causing his eyes to close involuntarily.  
  
She broke away, then kissed him again, moving his lips to whisper silently, "Thank you."  
  
And then she entered the room, the doctor who had held open the door giving Chandler a soft and understanding look.  
  
Chandler wiped the tear that had appeared from his cheek, and sat down in the chair beneath him, putting his head into his hands. 


	8. Chapter Eight: Torn Asunder

In A Lifetime

Chapter Eight: Torn Asunder

Disclaimer: A month has passed, but this hasn't changed. I do not own any of the characters in this fic. The doctor could be considered mine, I guess, but I don't really want her.

A/N: I was writing this, and I realized…. This is so sappy! Good lord. Is it too sappy? It's kind of like sap-angst, which is weird. 

I kinda… dropped the ball on this. Last Thursday was a month since the last update. Eek. In my defense, I finished another fic (finally!), and I've been working hard at school for my upcoming exams. So, forgive me? Not the longest chapter yet, but hopefully one you will like. Reviews make me world go round, so, if possible, leave one for me?

I proofed this myself… what a mistake. Hopefully nobody will spot the awful grammar and spelling that I have. ;)__

Oh, and Cookie Monster… little tribute to Rachel's shirt in TOW Estelle Dies. ;) I much prefer Elmo, but y'know… Wait, why am I talking about this?

*~*~*

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry. But we can only do so much this way. There are no guarantees, and we can't tell yet."

"Can you usually tell straight away?"

"No."

"But… it could still be alright?"

"Yes. I'd say there's a 50/50 chance."

"Is that all?"

A pause. "Sir, in this world, nothing can be definite. You're just going to have to hope for the best. We'll make sure to tell you the minute there's any news."

Footsteps. They were gone.

Just like that.

*~*~*

Sunlight began to creep through the hallways, filling the floors with a ghostly glow as rays of yellow made their way above the rooftops. The snow on the ground sparkled brightly, crisp footsteps clearly marked along the roads.

The ambulance bay of the hospital, once covered in a blanket of snow, was now filled with watery residue, remnants of the white powder still evident at the edge of the curb. The damp wheel of a sparkling ambulance blew water onto the glass doors nearby as it sped away, sirens blaring.

Chandler sat slumped in a tiny chair in a hallway, deserted other than him and a vase of flowers on a table at the end. The sunlight from behind Chandler hit the vase, glaring off in all directions. A ray hit Chandler's face, and he stirred, groaning quietly.

A nurse exited a room at the opposite end of the hall, and watched for a moment as Chandler sat up, rubbing his eyes, hand outstretched against the sunlight. He saw her watching, and his eyes held a silent question. She nodded, and he leapt up, racing toward the room she had come from. She smiled and walked around the corner, humming to herself.

He shut the door quietly as he got to the other side of the door. She was sat in bed, her eyes closed, but her hand was tapping out a rhythm on the bed sheet, and she slowly let her eyes open as she heard him pull a chair across from the other side of the room.

"Chandler?" she whispered.

"I'm here," he said softly, kissing her hair lightly. 

"How long have I been here?" she asked, looking at him.

He laid his hand on hers, rubbing it softly. "About two days," he said. "They said it was best to let you sleep."

"Did it work?" she asked quietly, her eyes not meeting his.

He sighed, adding his other hand to the one already joined with hers. "They're not sure," he admitted sadly.

She let a tear fall onto his hand. "What do you mean?" she whispered.

"They don't know whether the surgery… exorcised your cancer completely," he said, his breath blowing her hair softly around. "And if it's not… well, the part that remains could easily grow back to like it was already."

"And we'd be nowhere," she whispered, her eyelids resting quietly, blocking out the piercing light beaming through the window. Her emotions didn't mirror the weather; her mind was bleak, an endless plateau of no hope stretching out as far as her closed eyes could see. She saw red, her eyes not tightly shut, the bright lights flooding through her eyelids, glowing an incandescent scarlet.

She let her eyes slowly open again as his touch moved to her face, watching his eyes roam over her face in admiration, the sunlight making her skin sparkle, her eyes staring into his.

"We're not nowhere," he said. "We're going to get married," he said softly, as her eyes closed again, a slight smile coming onto her face at those words. "You still want that, right?"

"Of course I do," she said almost silently, brushing her hand across his cheek. "But what if it didn't work, and I start to… go?" she asked. "Would you still want it?" 

He watched a tear slip from her eye, flowing down her face to hit the bedspread, the mark vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "Yes," he whispered. "Because I love you. And I want to marry you. And I will marry you. Right?"

"Definitely," she said, brushing her hand over his lips. She felt a tear drop onto her hands. She looked up, and saw him trying frantically trying to wipe his eyes. "Chandler," she said, and he looked at her. "You don't have to do that," she whispered.

"But-" he said.

"You don't," she insisted, and leaned forward, softly kissing his lips. 

*~*~*

"Is that everything?"

The bulging bag sat on the bed, the sheets smoothed to perfection, the blinds open so the light was angled downward onto the opposite wall. 

Monica lifted a blind slightly, peering out onto the road. It was still covered with snow, like a white blanket glittering over the city. Cars wound slowly along, snow spraying up from their wheels, and people trudged through the deep blanket lining the sidewalks, footprints invisible in the beautiful white.

"Monica?"

She looked around, dropping the blind. "What?"

"Is that everything?" he repeated, lifting the bag slightly.

"Yeah… yeah, I think so," she mumbled, looking distractedly at the floor. It gleamed, sparkling in the sunlight, highly polished. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, trying to look at her downward face. 

She looked up, oddly startled, and looking rather dazed. "What? Oh… yeah," she said slowly, walking slowly over. "We'd better get going, eh?" she said, straining as she tried to lift the bag.

"Let me get that," said Chandler quickly, gently moving her hands of the strap, and almost dropping the bag on the floor. 

Monica smiled lightly, and pushed the door open, letting Chandler walk through. He started off down the hall, stopping when he heard no following footsteps.

He turned, the sun momentarily hitting his eyes, and saw Monica still at the door, staring inward. She had a kind of lost expression, her eyes sad, her face drawn.

"Mon?" he said, putting the bag onto the chair next to him and treading carefully back toward her. 

With the blinds closed, the room was dark. It looked like new; the walls pristine, the bed sheets straight, the nightstand empty. To Chandler, it seemed cold; yet Monica was still staring into it, looking melancholy toward the blinds.

"Monica…" he whispered, his hand on her shoulder, his lips at her ear. "It's okay. You leave it behind here."

She didn't look at him, but her eyes moved, away from the room. "It's just… it's been a hard time. Very hard. And I want to leave it all behind, but it's affected me so much…" she said slowly, as if trying to understand her own words as she said them.

"I know," he whispered. Slowly, she moved, slipping her hand into his, and slowly pulling the door closed. A shaft of light beamed through the glass box in the door, causing a patch of light on the wall opposite.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him lovingly on the cheek.

He smiled, and hugged her to him. "No problem. Now, let's go home, okay?" he said cheerfully. "Race you to the elevator!" he teased, taking off down the hallway, leaving Monica giggling after him.

*~*~*

"No, that's totally wrong! **Cookie Monster** lived in the dustbin!"

Ross and Joey's argument was cut short by Rachel's exclamation, and they all turned to the door, where Chandler was letting Monica through. 

Rachel raced over, pulling Monica into an excited hug, and Ross gave Chandler a more muted one, kissing Monica on the cheek when Rachel moved to Chandler. Joey hugged Chandler tight, and did the same to Monica, smiling happily.

"How did it go?" asked Rachel, grinning, but their straight faces pulled her smile away quickly. "What?" she said.

"They don't know," said Chandler, moving past them with Monica to sit on the couch, signaling to Gunther for a cup of coffee. Ross perched himself on the arm, as Joey sat forward in the armchair and Rachel sat next to Chandler on the couch. "They said they can never tell straight away. They'll tell us in a few days, after more tests."

Rachel sighed, rubbing Monica's arm supportively. "I'm sure it'll be fine, Mon," she said, smiling slightly.

"I know," Monica said, trying to smile. "But there's always just that little bit of doubt, y'know?" she said, leaning against Chandler.

"You'll be fine," said Ross insistently. "You have to be," he said.

Chandler sighed. "Guys… I know, god, I know… Monica probably will be fine… but you have to accept that there is a possibility that she won't be. If you go in without knowing and accepting that, then if it's not… _if_" he evoked, at Joey's look, "then you won't know what to do if it happens." He took his coffee from Gunther, letting Monica sip gladly at it before continuing. "I know I'm hardly the best preacher, but you need to understand," he said, with Monica mutely agreeing with a nod of the head.

"I know," said Rachel. "But… it's scary to say that it won't be fine," she admitted.

Monica smiled. "Thanks guys," she whispered, and rubbed Rachel's hand back in appreciation. "It means… well, you know what it means to me. To us."

Chandler smiled at them too, before placing his empty coffee cup on the table before him, and straining as he rose from his seat again. "We've got to go and unpack Mon's stuff, but we'll come in later," he explained to Joey, who stared at him. "Come on, Mon," he said, offering his hand, which she grasped gladly, heaving herself up.

"Bye," she said softly, raising her hand. They murmured it back, looking rather sadly after the couple as they disappeared beyond the window.

*~*~*

"We gotta go, babe!" 

Chandler's voice called across the apartment, reaching Monica's ears through the closed bedroom door. 

She looked up from the spread of photos on the bed, shouting back a quick, "Just a minute!" before looking down again.

About a hundred photographs lay across the bed. Some were from her childhood, showing a rather chubby Monica in a head-wrestle with a skinny Ross; a day on the beach, large hats sitting happily on their heads, spades stuck in the sand. Gleaming white shone from a photo near the pillows, showing a resplendent Judy standing next to a happier, thinner Jack. Confetti stood around them, dancing merrily in the air. Judy's stomach glowed largely, signs of Ross clear already.

Monica smiled as she picked up a more recent photograph. It was Chandler with her in Montauk.

Her smile widened as she remembered that weekend. To the rest, she knew it recurred memories of Ross and Rachel's brief reunion, but to her, it triggered memories of Chandler's attempts to get her to take his seriously. She laughed lightly as she recalled his pathetic voices late into the night, lame suggestions like "I've got canned goods!"

If only they had known then how things would have turned out to be. Monica knew she wouldn't have wasted so much time. Time was precious to Monica, every bit sacred, and it scared her to think that she might not have much of it left.

"Mon!" His call interrupted her reverie, and she gathered the photos together, stuffing them into the box, vowing to tidy them later. She slipped the Montauk picture into the pocket of her jeans, and ran out to Chandler.

*~*~*

"I'm afraid… there are still some cancerous cells present in your breast."

Chandler gaped at her, while Monica tried to wipe away the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"But… how can that be? You operated… surely you got them all," he protested, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, resting his hand instinctively upon Monica's.

The doctor looked sadly at Monica. "It doesn't always work. I'm sorry. But there are other options for treatment, so there's still a good chance of recovery."

Monica looked at the doctor through tear-stained eyes, hearing the wariness of her voice. "But?" she prompted slowly, wiping her cheek clear of tears again.

The doctor sighed. "The best options we have are chemotherapy or radiotherapy. Anything else is unlikely to help, I'm sorry," she said, looking regretfully away.

Monica stared at her. "But… my baby," she said, immediately realizing what it meant. She looked to Chandler, who looked back with the hurt and sadness she felt herself. Her stomach was churning, and her eyes darted around the room, looking hopelessly for a solution.

"Do you want to continue with treatment?" asked the doctor slowly, looking sadly to Monica.

Monica looked to Chandler, and saw tears running freely down his face, his eyes staring intently at the edge of the highly polished gleaming desk. She looked to the doctor, and saw the question still hanging in her eyes, black mascara slightly smudged above her eyes.

The air was still, waiting; and Monica felt like she was drowning in invisible water, miles from land, unable to swim. It was an impossible for decision for her, and her eyes were blurred with tears. 

Then her voice rasped with a single word, and Chandler's head snapped up, the doctor's gaze intense.


	9. Chapter Nine: Hold On The Inside

In A Lifetime 

Chapter Nine: Hold On The Inside 

*~*~*

"No."

Chandler could never have thought such a simple, short word like that could cause him so much pain. His heart panged, his brain whirring to the realisation that he could have Monica, or he could have his baby; but he could never have both.

The doctor stared at Monica. "Are you… sure?" she said cautiously, her own heart pounding, imagining the situation they both must be in.

"Yes," said Monica, as strong as she could. She tried desperately to avert her eyes from Chandler, who was sitting silently beside her. "I want this baby."

The doctor blinked, trying to see doubt in her patient's eyes; but the more she stared, the more definite Monica's answer seemed. Her deep eyes held strength, truth, longing. 

"Are you sure?" repeated the doctor; seemingly unaware she'd already asked that question.

"You already asked that question," said Monica shortly. "Yes."

"Well… okay," said the doctor, surprised at the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Excuse me," she stammered, standing up. "I just need to… get something," she lied, pulling the door wide and rushing through it.

Monica rose from her chair, not looking down at Chandler. As she reached the door, she heard him rise, and let him sweep past her; but he was unable to stifle a sob as he turned the corner in his hurry, leaving Monica slowly following his footsteps.

*~*~*

Monica flung her head onto the counter as her purse slammed down against it. Her head was throbbing, her eyes raw from all the silent sobbing that she had done her best to hide from Chandler. 

He hadn't said a word since before her answer. On the drive home, he had simply stared straight at the road, swerving through the cars ahead when he needed, eyes fixated on what invisible point ahead of him. She thought she had seen tears within his eyes when the setting sun had glinted between the clouds in the dulling sky; but he never let her see his face.

When they had arrived outside the apartment building, his slamming of doors and dismissal of her attempts to talk to him had told her that he needed to be without her for a while, and she had let him set off to wherever he wished without question. 

_'Stupid of me,'_ she thought, bashing her head against the wood beneath her forehead. _'He could have gone anywhere.'_ She pulled her head up, breathing deeply, trying desperately to calm herself.

She let her sweaty hand free of her black leather purse and wandered over to the window, staring out over the opposite apartment block to the dark sky. She saw fine rain was starting to fall, moon half visible as she peered further upward.

Coming to a hurried decision, she grabbed her jacket from its hook and fled from the apartment, pulling the door shut behind her quickly.

As she reached the doors of the building, the rain was beginning to lessen, clouds moving away from the city in the gusting wind. She pulled her coat tightly around herself, the wind chilling the bare skin above her slightly unbuttoned shirt, the top two hanging to either side of her chest. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, cursing as she discovered that her gloves were missing. She kept her hands buried in her pockets, trying to warm them against the freezing night wind. She pulled one quickly out, glancing at her watch.

9:00. She didn't understand how it had gotten so late. The streets were almost deserted as she walked down them, knowing precisely where she was headed. Lights glowed from apartment blocks, happy sounds of laughter and music coming from the partially opened windows. She sighed as she saw some kids running in one block at the end of the street, chatter effervescing happily from their innocent mouths.

She strode down the sidewalk, head down, carefully avoiding the litter and gum that lay on the paving. A car zoomed past, spraying rain up from its wheels, soaking the parallel sidewalk with water.

Monica looked up as she passed the coffeehouse, Phoebe's singing making some of the customers winch in pained sympathy for the masseuse, her hands wildly strumming on her guitar. Monica spotted Joey and Ross smiling encouragingly at her from the sofa, laughing quietly to each other as her song became louder. Rachel was carefully carrying her refilled coffee back toward to her seat, but quietly gasped when she saw Monica. 

Monica gestured for her to stay inside, but Rachel stuffed her cup into someone's surprised hands and hurried outside. Monica was grateful for the small mercy that Ross and Joey were too amused by Phoebe's singing to see Rachel or Monica.

"Monica!" exclaimed Rachel, letting the door swing shut behind her. "How'd it go?" she asked, hope filling her eyes.

Monica sighed. "There's still some cancerous cells," she said quietly, her heart twitching as Rachel's expression became distraught. 

"What?" she said sorrowfully. "How can that be? Are- are they sure?" she asked.

Monica nodded. "They said the only options left are chemo or radiotherapy," she added, wiping the tears collecting in her eyes quickly away.

Rachel gasped. "But… but the baby," she said, quickly realising what it meant. She looked deeply at Monica. "You didn't…" she asked, her eyes holding distress.

Monica nodded again.

Rachel gasped, her breath catching in her throat, tears collecting in her eyes. "But… Monica…" she whispered, staring at her in sorrow. "Oh…" she said quietly, and Monica let her tears fall with Rachel's, letting Rachel pull her into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around her.

"I… it wasn't a nice decision to make," Monica said, trying to explain, and Rachel broke away.

"Monica," she said, her voice the most serious and sincere that Monica could ever remember coming from Rachel. "I know why you did it. You don't have to explain it to me," she said, smiling sadly at her best friend.

And Monica hugged her again, the overtures of Phoebe's song sounding loudly over the silent tears of the two on the lonely street outside.

*~*~*

As soon as Monica arrived at the entrance, she saw him. Sitting on the bench. The bench she knew hereby would be referred to as 'their bench'. Someone they always seemed to end up there. 

And Monica knew, at that moment, that despite everything, they would stand together under a streaming sun and exchange rings and vows, tied together forever, despite where her body might be soon after. She knew she would always be with him in soul, if she couldn't be with him in body.

She walked nearer, slowly taking silent steps toward the bench, watching his still body, his head buried in his knees.

He looked up as she stood before him, not sitting down in the space that lay beside him.

"Aren't you going to sit down?" he asked flatly, his voice sounding emotionless to both their ears.

"I'd rather stand," she replied, trying to keep her voice level.

"Fine," he replied, standing himself. "Then I will too."

Monica sighed. "Chandler, this isn't a competition."

"What?" he said, as if he hadn't being paying attention to her words.

"Chandler, I know this is hard for you to understand…" she began, "but it's the right thing. Come home, we can talk about it…" she offered simply, knowing that it was too little too late. She tried to touch his arm, but he flew back from her, looking her straight in the eyes for the first time in hours.

"No, **you** don't understand!" he blasted, despair filling his tearful eyes, wind blowing his hair up into disarray as tears ran down his cheeks. "How can I live everyday around that baby when it's own mother, you, the woman I've loved more than anyone in my life, is dead?! Dead, dead and gone. You don't get it, do you? That baby will be my reminder that you sacrificed yourself. Every time I look at it, I'll see you, your eyes, your body, your life. You're life, gone, and all I'll have left is a baby."

"You think this is easy for me?" she yelled back, anger overcoming her tortured soul. "You think it was a simple decision for me, sitting in that office, having to decide between my life or my baby's?"

"You can get another baby," he said, starting to move nearer. "And you'll have a chance to be with it, with me… you don't need to do this," he said mournfully.

"They said that the treatment might lessen the chances of me getting pregnant again," she replied, her voice quietening.

"That doesn't mean-" said Chandler immediately, but she interrupted.

"But that's not even the point," she said. "I can't live knowing I let a baby die, Chandler… I can't."

"So you have to die because of it?" he cried.

"If that's what it means," she said quietly.

Chandler tried to understand, to comprehend, but he couldn't, and stuttered. "Monica… women get abortions all the time. They let babies die, all the time. But you're going to let yourself die just because of a baby that could easily be… got rid of," he stumbled, choking up at the thought of terminating his own baby.

"See?" she shouted. "You can't let it die, can you?"

"I can't let you die either!" he yelled, holding his hands on his head in desperation.

"Chandler, you have to! It's me or your baby," she said. "I chose the baby. I don't know what to do to try and help you," she admitted, moving closer, her breath heavy. "But I made the choice. It was my choice. And if you're not going to be there with me, then I might as well go and die now," she said softly, standing an inch away from him, not daring to touch him.

She saw the tears run down his cheeks, the despair in his eyes, the ache in his bones. She knew that it was hard, and she knew that it was just as hard for him as it was for her.

"I just…" he choked out. "How can I wake up everyday knowing you're not going to be next to me? Knowing I won't hear your voice? Knowing I'll never get another phone call that sounds like you're ready to bite the head of your sous-chef?" he said, raising a smile from her dry lips.

"I know it'll be hard. But there'll be a baby. Our baby. And I'll miss you to. You think it's easy thinking I won't be around with my child, watching them grow, watching them start kindergarten, watching them graduate, knowing they've had their first kiss? Being there at their wedding?" she cried, tears moving over her lips. "I don't want to miss all that stuff. But if I let this baby go, then I'll still be here… but without all that stuff. I want my kid to have a chance. He'll have you, Chandler. The best dad in the world," she smiled.

He smiled slightly, touching her cheek softly. "You think it's a boy?" he asked.

"Maybe," she whispered. "Maybe it is."


	10. Chapter Ten: Heavy In My Heart

In A Lifetime

Chapter Ten: Heavy In My Heart

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own them… and no, that is **not** Jennifer Aniston hiding in my closet…_

**A/N:** _Er… hello. I feel like I need to reintroduce myself, the length of time I let this drop for. I got a little caught up in the ER fanfiction world (it rocks, dontchaknow), and just… didn't work on this. But some prodding from a certain few people [cough] finally made me move my lazy ass and write some. Thus, there is this. Read and review, as usual, mmkay? And I swear I won't take as long with the next chapter._

_And may I just say… 100 reviews! Woot woot, go me!..... Okay, I'm done now. Hee._

**Dedication:** _To the fantastic Danielle, for loving this story, and for giving me her thoughts. You rock, uh-huh uh-huh._

* * *

"Chandler?"

"Mmm?"

It was dark, and they were asleep, lying side by side in bed. Chandler lay on his side, slowly being lulled to sleep as he faced the wall; but Monica had been staring up at the ceiling for over an hour, and now decided to tell him about what she had been thinking about for all that time.

"I'm going to leave work," she said, softly.

Almost asleep, Chandler hadn't really been paying attention, so he just murmured softly back. "Uh-huh. Good idea, honey," he said tiredly.

She finally took her eyes away from the stop she'd been staring at, and looked down at him. "Chandler, did you hear what I said?" she asked, almost incredulously.

He didn't move. "Yeah, honey. You have work tomorrow," he groaned, pulling the duvet further over himself.

Monica rolled her eyes, smiling to herself despite how she felt. "No, Chandler, I said I'm going to _leave_ work," she said, louder than before.

She didn't see, but Chandler's eyes suddenly snapped open, and he rolled over, staring at her. "What?" he said, in disbelief.

"I'm quitting work," she said, staring back. "I'm just going to get sick, so it makes sense to leave now, doesn't it?" she said, not really asking the question to him, but to herself.

He frowned, and she saw tears, small, tiny tears, collecting in the corner of his eyes. "You really want to leave work?" he asked, his voice quiet.

She nodded. "It just makes sense, Chandler. I mean, I'm going to get ill, and I'd rather use the time with my family and friends than working," she said, smiling, although it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll have more time with you, my parents, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey, Ross, and I can spend more time planning the wedding with Jennifer," she said. "You do still want this wedding, right? Because we don't have to, if you don't want-"

He put a finger to her lips and smiled. "Of course I still want it," he whispered, moving closer. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back, and returned his kiss, short, sweet, and broke away. Then she swallowed, her smile fading. "When are we going to tell the others?"

He looked at her. "I don't know," he said. "Did you want me to do it?" he offered.

She shook her head. "No, no, I think I better," she said. "I feel like I should."

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he said, glancing at the clock, which read 12:35. "Sorry, today?" he asked.

"Well, I was going to quit tomorrow," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Well, you could do it in a couple of days, I guess," he said, frowning.

She sighed. "I'm a bit scared," she admitted. "I mean, what're they going to say?" she said, leaving the question hanging in the air, ominously watching her. "I'm scared, Chandler," she said, looking down at him which such sad eyes that he let a tear drop, and pulled her close, kissing her hair feverishly, trying to calm both her and himself, as they both wondered about the question that was still hanging over both of them.

* * *

"You don't have to take the day off, Chandler."

Monica's insistent voice called to him from the bathroom, where he heard the tap running slowly. He flipped the sausages before him over with the spatula in hand, looking warily at them.

Monica had entrusted him not to burn the breakfast while she brushed her teeth, which she had forgotten in her panic over telling the others.

She had decided to tell them one at a time, in her apartment, while Chandler talked to Rachel in the coffeehouse. Ross was only available for lunch, apparently, while the other two had nothing to do. Monica had been forced to be very sly about finding this out, as they seemed concerned that there was something wrong.

When, in fact, there actually was.

"Yes, I do. I don't want you to be alone, after you… y'know," he called back, scooping the eggs onto a plate. "Eggs are done," he yelled.

"I'll be out in a second," she called back, and he heard the cupboard clanking open. "I'll be fine, Chandler, you really don't have to."

"But I want to," he insisted, grabbing the toast as it popped up and starting to butter it. "It's just one day, Monica, and you need me."

She sighed as she walked out into the kitchen. "Oh, okay," she relented, and he smiled. "But no eavesdropping on me, okay?" she said, drawing out a chair and sitting, looking over at him.

"Deal," he said, throwing the toast onto a plate and scooping up the sausages. "Mushroom?" he offered, pointing at the plate beside him, and she smiled.

* * *

She looked at him, her expression soft, and wiped the tears from her eyes. He looked so unspoiled, so innocent, almost childlike, she thought. And she didn't want to ruin that.

But she owed him the truth. She owed that to all of them.

"Joey," she began, and he looked up, his sandwich clasped between his hands.

"Yeah?" he said.

She swallowed. "I have… something to tell you, and it's not… not easy," she said slowly, smiling briefly at his bemused look.

He frowned. "Okay, shoot," he said, putting his sandwich down on its plate.

"I still have cancer," she said, and, before he said anything, she blurted out the rest. "And I'm not getting treated."

He stared at her. "… Why not?" he finally said.

"Because of the baby," she replied, putting her hands on his knee. "The radio waves might kill the baby, and… well, we don't want that to happen," she said.

"So that means that you'll die?" he whispered, eyes wide.

She nodded.

He stared at her, and she saw the intense sorrow in his eyes, tears welling in their deep corners. She let out a strangled moan, hating herself for what she was doing.

"Oh, god, Joey, I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I didn't want this! It's not… it's not fair!" she yelled, looking up at the ceiling as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I just-"

He stood, and pulled her close, bringing her into a hug. "Shh, shh, Monica," he whispered, and she was surprised, alert to the serious but oddly calm edge to his voice. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

She let him hold her, his hand softly running over her hair, whispering the words over and over into her ear. She had a feeling he was trying to convince himself as much as her. And she knew that it wasn't going to work.

"Joey," she whispered, and he pulled away, tears still lying in his eyes. "I love you," she whispered, her face stained with tears, and he pulled her into a hug again, echoing her words as she let him hold her tightly.

* * *

"Okay, what's happened? Has Chandler left you because he can't handle it? I always knew he'd never be able to stick with you. I said so, but did anyone ever listen? Noooo. Of course not, because I'm-"

"Ross," said Monica, cutting off her brother's rant. "Chandler hasn't left me, okay? But I have… something else to tell you," she said, breathing deeply.

He frowned. "This… isn't good news, is it?" he said. Monica shook her head. "They didn't get rid of the cancer?" he asked, and she shook her head again. "And… you're not going in for treatment because of the baby?" he asked, tears in his eyes. She nodded her head, and burst into silent tears, resting her head against his shoulder. He wiped his years away with the back of his hand before letting her rest her head against him, putting his own head over hers.

"I'm sorry, Ross," she whispered softly, lips brushing against his shirt.

"Shh," he whispered, breaking away so he could look into her eyes. "Monica… you have no idea how much I'm going to miss you," he said, letting the tears fall freely from his eyes. "You've been my sister for so long, and I can't imagine my life without you. But you must never, ever, blame yourself. It's not your fault, and you're not to think that it is, okay?"

She nodded. "I'll miss you too," she whispered, and he nodded, softly kissing her teary cheek.

"I know."

* * *

"Phoebe. Phoebe. Earth to Phoebe. Phoebe, please, say something."

Phoebe's gaze was fixed, staring directly at a point somewhere between Monica's eyes, but it almost looked like she was looking through her friend, in a state of total disbelief after what she had just heard.

"Phoebe?" repeated Monica, waving a hand in front of her friends face. "Phoebe," she said, louder.

Phoebe moved suddenly, making Monica jump. "What?" said Phoebe, still looking confused.

Monica sighed. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked.

Phoebe nodded slowly. "You said that you still have cancer, and that… you're not going to have any more treatment because of the baby," she repeated, monotone.

Monica looked at her, waiting. Phoebe didn't say anything more, though, but just clung to Monica, embracing her in a tight hug.

"Phoebe, are you okay with this?" asked Monica, as they drew apart.

"Okay?" Phoebe echoed. "Of course I'm not okay," she said, sadly, and a tear fell. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Monica… and I don't want to lose you," she whispered, wiping her eyes carefully, letting tears fall anyway. "But sweetie… death isn't something to be scared of. And I know that we'll see each other again," she said. "And no matter what, you'll always be here, in our hearts," she said, smiling sadly.

Monica smiled. "You sound like a priest or something," she giggled, her vision blurred by tears.

Phoebe giggled too. "Well, I am very worldly, you know," she said, making Monica laugh again. Phoebe cocked her head. "Oh, Monica," she whispered, as Monica's tears started to flood down her cheeks. She let Monica sob against her shoulder, resting her head against her weeping friends head. "It's okay to cry," she whispered… and Monica did.

* * *

"So… how did it go today?"

Monica looked up at Chandler as he shut his book and looked down at her, finally taking the initiative to speak, since they had been quiet since they had eaten.

Monica sniffed and shrugged. "Okay," she said, leaning over to put her own book away.

"Then why did every one of them come down to the coffeehouse with tear stains you could've seen from space?" he asked, and she sighed.

"How do you think it went?" she said, clicking her light off and sinking down under the duvet.

He slid down with her, his bedside lamp shining behind his head so it looked like he was producing the light. "By the looks of them, and by your mood… I'm going to say not very well," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her, which she gratefully let him do, clasping on of his hands against the mattress.

She kissed his knuckle lightly, pulling him closer. "Well, I totally broke down in front of Joey, Ross was his usual suspicious self, and Phoebe froze for about ten minutes before she said anything. And I cried in front of each of them," she said, hearing her voice choking up again. "And here I go again," she sighed, and Chandler felt tears drip onto his hand, rolling onto the mattress like raindrops.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay to cry," he said, echoing Phoebe's words. "It's okay," he repeated, softly kissing her ear. "It's okay."

"But it's not okay," she said. "It's not. I'm going to… to die," she choked out, and his breath caught in his throat, "And you all have to watch me," she said, tears rolling quickly down her cheek. "I should just go and live under a rock so you don't have to watch me," she said, her voice filled with guilt.

"Monica," he said firmly, and she looked at him, and saw tears in his eyes too.

"Oh, great, now I've made everyone cry today," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Monica, listen," he said. "You should not feel guilty. It's not your fault. We want you around us as long as we can. We want to be with you until the… the end," he choked. "You are the most special, talented, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, amazing, intelligent, wonderful women I've ever known," he whispered, and she blushed slightly, eyes still tearful. "And I want to be with you until the very last moment," he said, pressing his lips against hers. "Because I love you. And they do too."

She kissed him back, pulling his body close to hers. "I love you, more than anything, Chandler Bing," she whispered. "And I want to marry you, marry you as soon as I possibly can."

He smiled. "Only a month to go," he whispered. "Can you wait?"

She shook her head, and, as she pulled him closer still, he reached out behind him and flicked the light off, and slid further under the duvet, lips still pressed against hers.


	11. Chapter Eleven: On My Way Home

In A Lifetime

Chapter Eleven: On My Way Home

**A/N:** _Hee, another chapter already. See, told you I'd be quick, didn't I? Anyway, it's the long-awaited wedding chapter. I think this may be the longest chapter yet, which is only right, no? Anyway, on with the fic. Credit for the vows must go to both the writers of TOW Monica and Chandler's Wedding (whoever they may be), and which both helped in parts of the ceremony. A lot if it's mine, though, so credit to me too!_

God, I'm sad. Major thanks to Chris for her meticulous proofing skills, and I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, okay? Okay.

A few notes to readers:

**FlFriend: **Monica told Rachel in Chapter 9, before she talked to Chandler in the park.

**Becca:** Already talked to you about it, but I totally understand. And your life is more important than my stupid fic, so… yeah.

**Anyone pleading me to save Monica:** I refuse to reveal any plot details, so you'll just have to wait and see. But I love Monica, so make your own assumptions. But then, I also love torture in fics… [ponders]

Okay, longest. A/N. ever. Moving on…

P.S. Why won't this stay in italics? Stupid machine.

* * *

The sun was all too suddenly there, blasting onto Monica's face intensely as it came clear of the horizon of buildings and shone brightly through the window. Monica groaned as her eyes met the light, and her hand flailed around, hitting Chandler square on the chest.

"Uhh," he moaned, stirring, as her eyes fluttered open. She sat up, putting a hand up against the sun, and smiled down at him, watching him squirm as he woke.

She leant down and kissed him softly on the lips, causing his eyes to open. He smiled at her. "Morning," he whispered, as she kissed him for a second time

"Good morning," she said, smiling once more. She held up a finger. "One week," she said.

"I know," he replied. "What time is the appointment?" he asked.

"One," she answered, resting her head on his bare chest. "Have you gotta go to work?"

He sighed. "Yeah. There's another big meeting." He rolled his eyes, and kissed her hair softly. "What're you going to do this morning, then?" he asked.

She shrugged as best she could, her shoulders rubbing against his skin. "I might clean the apartment again," she suggested.

He grinned, and put his arms around her, crossing over her belly. "You're starting to show," he murmured in her ear, smiling.

She smiled back. "You only just noticed?" she grinned, and he hit her arm lightly. "Five months to go," she said, echoing her earlier count until the wedding.

His smile faded. "And then you'll be gone," he whispered, his voice sounding lost.

She kissed his cheek softly. "Yeah," she breathed, not fighting his sadness, or denying anything. There was no point. They both knew it was the truth- and neither could, nor would, deny themselves the truth.

* * *

Monica glanced at Jennifer, who was swinging around on her chair in irritation and whistling to herself, with her feet propped up on the table. She looked back at Monica plainly, sighing.

"Monica… if he doesn't get here soon and we want to get this done today, we're going to have to start without him," she said, putting her feet back down and sitting up straight.

Monica sighed, flipping her cell phone open again and groaning when she saw there were no new messages. "Fine. Let's go," she instructed, leaning forward.

Jennifer smiled. "Right, everything's set for the day. The park is booked- or at least, a large section of it- the caterer is booked, food menus are done, the chairs and the stage will be there on the day… and Chandler has the rings, I assume?" she asked, looking up again.

Monica nodded. "He got them last week," she replied.

"Right, now-"

She was cut off as the door burst open, and they both looked around, seeing an exhausted-looking Chandler run in. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his shirt stuck to his body. He took deep breaths, leaning against the back of Monica's chair and clutching a stitch in his side.

"Oh my god, Chandler, where have you been?" exclaimed Monica, jumping up to help him into the chair next to her.

He took a few deep breaths before looking up at her. "There- were- no- cabs," he managed to say, throwing his head against the high-backed chair, which was covered in soft leather. He closed his eyes, wiping a hand over his face to wipe off his sweat, but Monica gently moved it and did it for him.

"What, so you ran all the way?" she asked, dabbing at his skin with a tissue. "You must be exhausted," she said, kissing him softly on the forehead.

He smiled. "I just needed to… to get here," he said, closing his eyes again.

Monica smiled. "There was no need to attempt suicide in the process, though," she joked, and he smiled sarcastically.

"How much did I miss?" he asked, and Monica sat back in her chair and looked to Jennifer.

"Not much, we only just started," replied Jennifer. "But there isn't really much to go through… it's all sorted. Monica told me you bought the rings?"

He nodded, still breathing deeply. "Last week."

"And all the invitations have been returned?"

"Every single one."

"Even from his father," Monica put in, smiling at Chandler. Amidst the distress of Monica's situation, Chandler had relented to Monica's insistence at inviting his father. He did not want the latter there, but neither did he want Monica to be upset. So they had sent the invitation, and it had actually been one of the first returned, much to Chandler's annoyance.

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Yes, they've all been returned, whether the people are coming or not," he said, forcing a smile.

"Right, then everything is sorted!" exclaimed Jennifer, standing up and smiling at them. She extended a hand, which Monica shook.

"Thank you for everything," said Monica, smiling and kissing Jennifer on the cheek.

Chandler took Jennifer's hand. "Yeah, you've been great," he praised her.

Her smile widened. "No problem. I'll see you on Wednesday at the wedding!" she called, as they walked out the door, which Chandler shut quickly behind them.

"I ran all the way for _that_?" he said incredulously, wiping the last drop of sweat from his forehead.

Monica hit him lightly. "No need to be so rude," she chastised, slipping her hand into his. "And you really ran all the way?" she asked, looking him over as they pushed the front doors of the building open and walked out into the sunshine.

He shrugged. "I didn't want to miss anything," he said.

She smiled at him in adoration. "That's so sweet, Chandler," she said softly.

He blushed. "Well… I'm a sweet guy," he replied, winking at her. She smiled, trying and failing to conceal it, and they headed off down the street.

"Taxi!" she yelled, sticking her hand out, and one drew up immediately. They stepped in, and Monica gave the address.

"Oh, _now_ you come along," snipped Chandler, rolling his eyes at the driver.

* * *

"Monica! Chandler!"

They both awoke at once as yells rang out through the apartment, and the sun burst through the window once again. It had been brilliantly sunny all week long, and Monica smiled as she realized she had gotten her wish- it was a beautiful day for the best day of her life.

Her smile was gone in a flash as the yelling continued, and she looked down at Chandler. "What's that noise?" she groaned.

Chandler moaned. "Sounds like Satan's minions are back to haunt me," he said. She smiled and looked over as the door to their bedroom burst open.

"You guys!" said Rachel excitedly. "It's the big day!" she squealed.

Chandler looked up at her. "Yeah, it's **our** big day, so what's with you?" he asked quietly, head flopping back onto his pillow after he spoke.

Rachel's giant smile vanished. "What, I'm not allowed to be excited for you guys?" she said despondently, staring at him.

Monica laughed. "Sure you can," she said, sitting up. "Besides, you're going to help me with everything," she said, grinning.

Rachel's smile flitted back onto her face as quickly as it had disappeared. "Okay," she said. "Chandler, you have to leave," she said immediately, pulling the duvet off both of her friends. "Nice PJs," she said, smiling at him.

He blushed. "Why do I have to leave?" he asked, clueless.

Rachel gaped at him. "Chandler, the groom cannot see the bride! You shouldn't have even been here overnight, so be grateful for small mercies," she said, pushing him off the bed.

He fell with a loud thump. "Ow," he groaned, looking up at Rachel, who had taken his place on the bed.

"Sorry," she said, not even looking at him, and certainly not sounding as though she meant what she had said.

"Yeah," he said sullenly, rolling his eyes.

Monica leaned around Rachel, and her friend stopped for a minute, rolling her eyes as Monica smiled.

"Sorry, honey," she said. "But just grab some clothes for now, take your tux, and go over to Joey's, all right? You can use Rachel's room. I'll see you later, okay?" she said, kissing him as he leaned upward.

"Okay," he replied. "Have a nice time," he said, grabbing some clothes from his dresser, and his flawless tux from the closet.

"We will," called Monica, smiling again as Chandler shut the door behind him.

He sighed, smiling to himself. Today was it. The day. The day he'd been anticipating, waiting for, ever since he'd proposed under the craps table in Las Vegas. Ever since he'd professed his love for Monica, and felt like shouting it to the whole world. And ever since her head had popped up from under the covers after Ross left the hotel room in London. Chandler knew that his whole life was worth all the crap he'd gone through for Monica; and he knew she felt exactly the same way.

He slipped out into the hallway, and rapped on the door of number 19. It took a minute for the door to open, and a sleepy Joey rubbed his eyes and looked up at Chandler.

"Hey Chandler," he said quietly. "What're you doing he- oh." He realized what was going on, glancing at the clothes gathered in Chandler's arms.

"Yeah, Rachel kicked me out," he said, rolling his eyes as the door shut behind them. "Is she really Satan in disguise?" he asked, and Joey laughed.

"You can use the bathroom," Joey offered. "I'm going back to bed," he mumbled, wandering slowly back toward his room.

"Okay," said Chandler, mildly surprised. "When will you get up?"

"Sixth of never," replied Joey. "Rachel woke me up at seven," he said, and Chandler grinned.

"Sweet dreams," Chandler said, and Joey waved his arms in annoyance, closing the door.

Chandler grinned again as he grabbed his clothes from the couch and shut the bathroom door behind him.

Today was the day. The best day of his life.

* * *

The grass was packed, with friends and family members seemingly bursting forth from the trees, grandparents complaining about how small the seats were, cousins chatting to colleagues, children being directed by mothers. Chandler smiled, and looked back toward Ross.

"Okay, so this is it," said Ross, grinning at Chandler.

Chandler smiled back, swallowing. "Yeah."

"Nervous?" asked Ross.

Chandler sighed. "A bit," he admitted.

Ross grinned again. "Good."

Chandler frowned. "What?"

"It's good to be nervous," said Ross. "If you weren't, it'd mean you didn't care as much," he said, putting a hand on Chandler's shoulder as he craned his neck to look behind Chandler.

Chandler frowned, but faked a smile when Ross looked at him. "Well, great," he said. "Am I supposed to be up there yet?" he asked.

Ross frowned. "Er… I think Rachel's going to signal when you do. She and Joey are talking," he reported, raising his body up by standing on his toes. "Oh, they've stopped." Chandler sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited. "Oh, I think she's signalling," said Ross, and Chandler turned to see for himself. "Yeah. Oh, go, go!" he said, pushing Chandler toward the congregation with more force than he intended.

"Easy man," said Chandler, frowning at Ross over his shoulder as he walked away. He paused to give Rachel a smile as she rushed over, then turned back to Ross. "I'm not a dinosaur bone!" he yelled. Ross frowned at him, and opened his mouth to speak, but Chandler widened his eyes and ran the rest of the way.

He quickly linked arms with his mother and father, who stood waiting for him behind the crowd, and they slowly made their way up the centre aisle, with people smiling at him as he walked past. They reached the end, and he quickly kissed the cheeks of both his parents.

"I love you mom," he said quietly, and she smiled, releasing his arm with a silent nod. "I love you too, dad," he said, and Charles did the same, sitting down next to Nora.

Everyone was staring at him as he took his place on one side of Joey, who gave him a quick thumbs up, grinning. Chandler glanced at the giant crowd, all the guests now perched silently on chairs. Underneath, the green grass shone in the sunlight, leaves dancing in the trees behind. The gates to the park had been locked shut, and anyone who tried to enter could clearly see the wedding party. Passers-by smiled at the thought that two people were marrying in such a beautiful place on such a beautiful day.

Chandler looked out to the sky, which was a brilliant shade of blue. Birds made their way across the sky, vanishing as they passed over clouds, which were few and far between today. It was rather warm for a May day, and Chandler smiled. The day was perfect.

He looked down again as the music started up once more, and he saw Phoebe, Ross and Rachel begin to walk down the aisle, all smiling. He noted happily that they were not fake, overly happy smiles, but quiet, genuine ones. And it meant the world to Chandler that his friends were so happy for him and Monica.

Rachel stood just behind Joey, and Ross took his place behind Chandler, smiling again as Chandler glanced at him. Chandler's head whipped around as the crowd began to whisper excitedly, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

The white dress hung on her body perfectly, her curves more evident than ever, and her hair fell beautifully to the sides of her face, split with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling as she stared at him. A translucent veil hung from her head, flowing down her back like water down a rippling waterfall.

He felt like he was falling in love with her all over again.

And then he was going to lose her. Forever.

He wiped a stray tear from his eye as she kissed her parents on the cheek, whispering to them as he had done with his parents. As she stepped up onto the platform with her five friends, Judy Geller glanced at Chandler, and smiled, eyes darting to Monica for a moment before returning to Chandler. Simple, yes; but it held more meaning than Chandler had ever known.

Judy finally loved her daughter for who she was.

Joey coughed, and Chandler looked toward him, as did the rest of the congregation. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. I have known both Monica and Chandler for a long time, and I cannot imagine two people more perfect for one another. Their love is the most pure and wonderful I have ever known, and I know that they will be together forever, if not in body," he said, himself having to wipe a tear away as he thought of what was to come, "then in mind and spirit. It is a love based on giving and receiving, and a love that is evident in both from the moment you meet them. And now, we shall proceed to the vows. Monica?"

Monica sighed heavily, smiling at Chandler, and leant behind to take her notes from Rachel, who simply smiled.

"Chandler… for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my prince, my soul mate. Then three years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort. And instead, I found everything I'd ever been looking for my whole life. Over the years we've been together, you have been so supportive that I can't even begin to list the ways in which I love you. And I might not have that long left to be with you in body, but I know that we will always be bound together, because our love is stronger than anything. And I only want to be with you."

Chandler, Rachel, and Judy all simultaneously wiped tears from their eyes, and Chandler took his vows from Ross, staring into Monica's eyes for a moment before he began.

"Monica, I love you. And I feel that that is all I need to say, because it's the truth, and it's the most wonderful truth I've ever known. You have helped me and loved me in so many ways, and I can't believe that we're here now. Because I never thought I was good enough for someone like you. I still don't. But you are the most amazing person I've ever met, and my heart misses a beat every time I even look at you. And wherever you are, I know that I'll always love you."

Joey looked at him with a sad smile as Chandler silently handed the cards back to Ross, taking the rings into his hand without a word, and Joey glanced at his notes again.

"Do you Monica, knowing this man's love for you and returning it, realizing his strengths and learning from them, recognizing his weaknesses and helping him to overcome them, take Chandler to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Monica smiled. "I do."

"Place the ring on his finger," said Joey, and she did, sliding it onto his hand with the lightest touch, her skin sliding over his.

Joey smiled, and looked at his notes again. "Do you Chandler, knowing this woman's love for you and returning it, realizing her strengths and learning form them, recognizing her weaknesses and helping her to overcome them, take Monica to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," said Chandler softly.

"Place the ring on her finger. Let these rings serve not as locks, binding you together, but as keys, unlocking the secrets of your hearts for each other to know, and thus bringing you closer together forever." Chandler slid the ring silently onto Monica's finger, rubbing her skin as he retracted his hand again.

Joey grinned at them. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride," he said, his voice brimming with excitement. Chandler moved forward, and caught Monica's lips in a deep kiss, which she returned, her hand clutching at his back. Everyone applauded, and they broke apart, smiling happily at each other.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she responded, kissing his lips softly again. "And I'm sorry," she said sadly.

"For what?"

"For dying," she replied, and he let a tear fall. He swept her body into his arms and held her tight as everyone stood, heading through the trees toward the reception.


	12. Chapter Twelve: You And I Get Blown Away

In A Lifetime

Chapter Twelve: You And I Get Blown Away

**A/N:** _Hey, told you I'd be fast, didn't I? Well, don't get used to it. I really should be revising for my exams, but, since I can never do that unless the exam is the next day, I'm updating this. It's my own fault. Heh._

_Anyway, for the moment, a little sap as they head off on the honeymoon. Since it all went a bit different, a pregnancy test was never discovered, so they didn't spend the whole reception obsessing over that. As for mentioning the dying… well, I hardly mention it this chapter, so you better be happy. ;-) Okay, I really need to stop threatening readers… Anyway, as usual, read, enjoy, and review! Thanks. Oh, and more thanks to Chris for her wonderful skills of proofing. Love ya.  
_

* * *

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she responded, kissing his lips softly again. "And I'm sorry," she said sadly.

"For what?"

"For dying," she replied, and he let a tear fall. He swept her body into his arms and held her tightly as everyone stood, heading through the trees toward the reception.

As Chandler and Monica held each other, people made their way past quietly, seeing the tear stains under Chandler's closed eyes, and they all, with the exception of the bridesmaids, best man, minister and the couple's parents, made their way through the canopy of trees where the reception was to be held. Soon, chatter began to be heard again, as the crowd enjoyed the wide spread of food out of the photographer's sights.

Chandler slowly drew away from Monica, looking carefully at her face. She dabbed at it with a tissue, and he led her behind a tree where he wiped her tears away and cleaned her make-up as best he could.

"Okay, we're ready!" called the photographer, and Chandler took Monica's hand and they walked out together, to beaming smiles from the others surrounding them. They went over to the photographer, who told them where to stand, and they smiled as the camera flashed, once, twice, three times.

"Okay… great!" exclaimed the photographer, grinning. "Now let's have the bridesmaids in," he said, gesturing for Phoebe and Rachel to stand with Chandler and Monica.

Phoebe leant toward Monica as the photographer set the camera again. "It was a beautiful ceremony, Mon," she whispered, and Monica smiled, stopping herself from speaking and smiling as the camera flashed again.

When he'd finished, the three girls hopped off the stage together, and Monica hugged both her friends as Chandler talked to Ross. "Thanks, guys, for being here," she said, as Rachel kissed her cheek.

"Are you kidding?" Phoebe interjected. "We wouldn't have missed it for the world," she said, and Monica kissed her cheek too.

Rachel grinned. "Okay, can we go to the reception now?" she asked excitedly, bouncing slightly.

Monica laughed. "You go on ahead," she said, looking back at Chandler. "I just want to talk to Chandler for a minute," she added, and they nodded, joining up with Joey as they made their way through the trees.

She walked up to him and greeted him with a kiss on the back of his neck, and he turned, softly planting his lips on her forehead, and slipping his hand into hers. They slowly walked toward all the noise, talking quietly to each other.

"So, Mr. Bing, where are we going on our honeymoon?" she smiled.

He grinned. "Well, Mrs. Bing," he replied, and she giggled, "I have two tickets to any city of your choice!" he said cheesily, and she laughed, swinging his hand as the sun beat down upon them.

"I would like to go to Paris," she said, and he whipped the tickets from his pocket, handing them to her. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, we're really going to Paris?" she gasped, looking up at him.

His eyes twinkled. "You always said you wanted to go," he whispered, and she kissed his lips softly, letting out a squeal after she broke away.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it!" she exclaimed, as they came clear of the trees and saw the tent-like structure the food was housed under. "You are the best husband ever," she said, gripping his hand tightly.

"It's all because I love you," he said softly, and she stopped, leaning upward for another deep kiss, which earned them a cheer as the crowd spotted them. Monica blushed slightly, but grinned as they walked into the crowd. Music pulsed from the various speakers dotted around, and chatter came from every direction. The sun shone brightly above, and the sky was a crystal clear blue.

It was perfect.

* * *

"Okay, is everyone ready?"

Monica's question was answered with a resounding "yes!", and she hurled the bouquet behind her, grinning at Chandler as the women all held out their arms expectantly. Rachel squealed as the bunch of flowers came flying down into her arms, and she held them up victoriously. Meanwhile, Phoebe groaned as she held up a single petal.

Monica laughed at them and gave Rachel a thumbs-up, and Rachel smiled at her as she clutched the bouquet to her chest, while the other women dispersed. Turning back to Chandler, she was surprised when he brought her into a kiss again, running his hands over the soft material of her dress.

"This day has been so perfect, Chandler," she whispered as they moved into a tight embrace, people milling around them and several wishes of good luck reaching their ears. They smiled over each other's shoulders at their guests, as they heard cars and cabs draw up at the park entrance, and noticed the chatter starting to wane. Monica spotted Rachel smiling charmingly as she talked to a handsome looking man, then rolling her eyes as the man apparently said something stupid. He moved away at her look.

Chandler smiled. "Only the best for my princess," he smiled, and she grinned. "You wouldn't believe how wonderful this day has been for me," he said softly. The people around them had all left, and anyone remaining was still under the tent, so they were alone.

"If it's even half as special as it was to me, then yeah, I would," she replied, his arms still holding her waist, his forehead leaning against hers. "I love you, Chandler," she murmured, and his lips curled upward in a blissful smile.

"I love you too, Monica… Bing," he breathed, and she giggled again.

"I can't get enough of hearing that," she said softly, and he kissed her ear gently, whispering her new name over and over.

"Monica Bing… Mrs. Bing… Mrs. Monica Bing…"

* * *

"Bye! Have a great honeymoon!"

Monica stuck her head out of the window and grinned at her friends and parents, assembled on the pavement outside the park. It was almost dark; the tent and remnants of the wedding had been packed up- under Monica's supervision, of course- and now she and Chandler had bundled their luggage into the back of the cab and were about to set off for the airport.

"We will!" she yelled, over the hum of the engine revving up. "Bye!" she called, as the cab sped off. Soon they were a speck in the distance, like a star in the sky. She sat back in the seat, letting Chandler put his arm around her and softly leaning against his shoulder.

"How long does it take to get to the airport?" she asked sleepily, looking up at him, as darkness fell even lower outside and dull city lights became the only source of light in the cab.

"About fifteen minutes, I think," he replied, kissing her hair softly. "We can sleep on the plane, babe," he whispered, feeling her breathing get heavier.

"I'm just… tired," she said, yawning quietly. "But at least I have you to lean on," she said, smiling.

Chandler laughed silently. "You'll always have me to lean on," he answered, and she wordlessly said, "I know". He felt it, in his heart, and they both smiled at that thought.

The cab arrived quickly at the airport, and Chandler took the luggage out as Monica paid the driver, who sped off with a businessman who had just exited the airport barely a second after Chandler had slammed the boot shut. Monica took her bags, hanging one off her shoulder and taking another in one hand. She slipped her other hand into Chandler's free one, his other also carrying two bags.

Within two hours, they were sitting on the plane together, Chandler looking out of the window with a gentle smile on his face. Monica, still looking sleepy, was slowly reading a magazine as she waited for take-off, and time when she could finally get to sleep.

"What time is it?" she asked, flipping the magazine shut and stuffing it back into her carry-on bag.

Chandler looked around, and glanced at his watch. "Ten," he replied, smile fading at her sigh. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I'm just tired," she said, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.

Chandler softly put his hand under her chin and turned her face toward him, with a soft, simple look, but eyes that held meaning. "And…" he prompted.

She had to smile. "And… I miss home," she admitted, looking down.

Chandler smiled, and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, Mon," he whispered. "I miss it too."

She looked at him with simpering eyes. "You do?"

He nodded. "I miss sitting at the table with you, talking about what you did at work… I miss lying next to you in bed, with my arm around you… I miss pretending to enjoy Ross' shark attack shows from across the alley," he said, laughing with her at that image.

_"We are now ready for take-off,"_ said a voice, and they both looked up, instinctively feeling around to ensure their seatbelts were fastened.

The take-off was smooth and quiet. The plane was quite sparsely populated, a few suited businessmen and a few other couples dotted the plane, and one small family sat at the back, the children snoring.

Chandler gazed plaintively out the window, watching as the city disappeared from sight, and he squeezed Monica's hand gently as her fingers curled over his. He watched as the plane flew steadily upward, passing through the clouds silently, and soon they were coasting in the cold, dark world above a layer of white, even though the clouds looked dull in the night.

Stars above sparkled, now that they were free from the translucent polluted clouds that protected the city, and they dotted the sky like Christmas tree lights. He smiled and looked back at Monica. She had fallen asleep, her head resting softly against his shoulder, quiet snores emanating from her mouth as her eyelids fluttered. She was dreaming.

He softly kissed her hair, and whispered three words to her- ones that he never tired of saying, and she never tired of hearing.

"I love you."

* * *

"We're here. Mon? Mon, we're here."

Monica awoke from her slumber as Chandler repeated his words softly. She jerked upward, feeling his lips brush up against her ear. She looked at him, and he smiled. She heard the other passengers busily walking off the plane behind her.

"Good sleep?" he asked.

She blinked. "I… yeah," she said, eyes adjusting to the brightness outside.

Chandler stood up. "Come on, we've got to get off," he said, and she stood, stepping out onto the aisle. He passed her the carry-on bag she had put in the compartment above and kissed her cheek as they walked down the steps into the sunlight, taking in the airport, situated at the heart of Paris.

"It's Paris," he whispered in her ear, and she smiled at him, stepping off at the bottom of the escalator and readjusting the bag on her shoulder. "Over there," he said, pointing after the other passengers, and they walked over in silence, both looking up at the bright blue sky, which made the blue of New York's sky seem like midnight blue.

They barely talked at all as they made their way through the airport, both breathing a heavy sigh of relief when they finally walked through the front doors out into fresh air again. Monica could barely contain her excitement.

"So, where are we gonna go?" she asked, holding her hands behind her and bouncing happily. "The Eiffel Tower? Arc d'Triomphe? The Louvre?"

Chandler smiled, gesturing for a cab. "How about… the hotel?" he suggested.

* * *

"_Please _tell me you won't trade this room in for another."

Monica glared at him momentarily from the window as he bounced up and down on the bed, but she couldn't help her face from breaking into a wide smile.

"No, this is perfect," she said softly, and he grinned, rising to kiss her deeply, and slowly moving her toward the bed. She broke away. "Whoa, don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself here?" she warned him. "We've been in the room for barely five minutes."

He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Pwease, Mon?" he said, and she giggled at his childish voice.

"No way, I am not doing it with a kid," she teased, pushing him onto the mattress, then lying next to him. "Let's just lie here," she whispered, and he looked at her, head turning against the sheets.

"I thought you wanted to see the sights," he frowned.

She sighed. "I just want to lie here with you," she said.

"Okay," he replied, kissing her lips again and turning his head to face the ceiling. "But you know, it'd be much more fun if we were both naked," he said, and she hit him, giggling again.

They both fell into a slumber, Chandler hearing her gentle snores before he slipped off into sleep himself, and he smiled, rolling over slightly to kiss her on the cheek. He slipped his arm under her and closed his arms around her, pressing his body close to hers. His hands lay together over her stomach, guarding the baby that lay inside.

Hours later, the sun was setting, light fading throughout the room, the gentle breeze whistling in the trees outside. Chandler's nose twitched as he awoke, finding himself pressed up against Monica. He smiled and kissed the back of her head softly.

They had three days to enjoy themselves in Paris, and Chandler was going to do whatever Monica wanted. He had finally accepted that in months she might be gone, and that he might be alone- and he fully intended to make her time as wonderful as he possibly could. So he'd taken her to Paris, as he'd suggested on their engagement night, knowing the excited reaction it would get out of her. Staying in the expensive suite was… well, expensive, but Chandler had the money, and he wanted to give his wife the best he possibly could.

He breathed in the soft scent of her hair, smelling the light fragrance of her apple shampoo, and he smiled again. He sat up slightly and looked down at her face. She looked so innocent when she slept, he thought. Like an angel.

Suddenly, he heard her stirring. She shuffled uncomfortably, and his eyes widened as something beneath his hands moved. Monica froze.

"Did you feel that?" he whispered, and she turned to look at him, nodding silently.

"Uh-huh," she said slowly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, one hand resting on her stomach. He entwined a finger with hers as they waited with bated breath.

They both smiled at each other when they felt it again, happiness filling their hearts as they sat together on the bed, feeling their baby kick for the first- second- time.

Just for a moment, they felt total, unhindered happiness. Just for a moment. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Set Your Hope On Fire

In A Lifetime

Chapter Thirteen: Set Your Hope On Fire

A/N: I know, I know, I vanished off the face of the earth. I offer no excuses, just profuse apologies. Review, if you are still interested- and I'll try to work faster. It's all my own stupid fault.

P.S. Chris and Rach rock my world. Thank you both very much. [bows]

* * *

The wings of the plane cut cleanly through the clouds as it began to head downwards, the white fluff vanishing from Chandler's eyesight, replaced with brilliant blue sky and early evening sunshine glowing a luminous orange behind the skyline of New York City. He peered out of the window, seeing tiny dots winding their way down the streets of the city, and smiled to himself.

Turning back from the window, he felt Monica become tense, and he put his hand on hers. "It's okay, Mon," he whispered. "It's okay."

Monica smiled weakly and gripped her seat tightly, closing her eyes. Normally, she was a good flier; but her position of cancer-infected-mother-to-be made her feel much more nervous than normal. She took deep breaths, instructing herself to stay calm. She felt a hand on her sweaty forehead, and knew it was Chandler. She smiled, her heart filling with happiness. He was always there.

"_We are now approaching the landing point at JFK airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are securely fashioned, and __make sure that all seats and tray-tables are in an upright position_. _Thank you for flying with American Airlines."_

Monica swallowed again, gripping Chandler's hand tightly. She rested her other hand on her stomach, feeling the baby inside kick as they touched down on the ground, slowing as they taxied along the runway. She smiled and opened her eyes, still breathing deeply. Chandler smiled at her.

He kept hold of her hand as they filed off the plane, down the ramp, and into the airport, where hundreds of people milled around. Shining silver reflected the golden sunlight throughout the building.

Monica's right hand returned to her stomach as she and Chandler glided down the escalator. She watched people retrieving their luggage from the revolving belt, and they made their way toward it. Silently, they took their bags, and walked together out of the airport. Monica concentrated on nothing but her feet, ignoring the people who crashed into her, not stopping to give an apology.

Chandler pushed open the glass door of the airport, letting Monica through first with a smile, and Monica grinned as she felt the fresh air on her face again. She sighed, and turned to Chandler.

He smiled. "So… wanna go home?" he asked. As an answer, she leant forward and planted her lips on his. Grinning, he waved his left hand in the air, and a cab pulled up. Silence fell on them again as the cab sped back to their apartment. When they arrived, Monica was exhausted, and she kissed Chandler once before climbing into their bed and falling immediately to sleep.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, Chandler was already gone. She rolled over, expecting to fall into his arms, instead her head made contact with an envelope.

She frowned, slipping it open with her finger; and her frown deepened as she read the note enclosed with a sinking heart.

_Monica,_

_I'm sorry I've gone so early, but work called to ask if I could come in and sort out what I've missed. I hope you don't mind. I've left you some flowers, and I'll be home in time for dinner as usual. Have a great day._

_Love, _

_Chandler._

The letter seemed so… cold, and so un-Chandler like that she read it through twice more, trying to see _him _in it; but she couldn't. Normally, he would've surprised her with the flowers, knowing how her face would light up on seeing them. He would have offered to cook the meal himself, or take her out to dinner. But the note read like an uncaring husband- not like Chandler. Maybe she had come to expect too much of him.

She frowned at her thoughts, and swung her legs off the bed. She momentarily rested a hand on her stomach again and she smiled; she wrapped a dressing gown around herself as she headed out into the living room.

Immediately, she saw the flowers, and despite her thoughts about the letter, she marveled at the bright colors and sparkling arrangement. Walking over, she smelled them, toyed with a large lily, and picked up the card. Flipping it over, she read:

_May these light up your day as you do to mine._

Monica stared at it. It seemed more like Chandler now; but she couldn't shake off the thoughts of the letter. Sighing, she put the card down and walked into the bathroom, glancing fleetingly at the flowers with a frown.

* * *

"The doctor will see you now."

Monica's eyes started upwards, then turned to Chandler, who was sitting next to her with a worried expression on his face.

"You go," he said, quietly. His voice sounded hollow. "I'll be here."

Monica sighed, nodded, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking into the office. Chandler saw her hand twitch nervously, but said nothing.

Tests. As if the process of losing Monica wasn't awful enough for him, they made her suffer through tests, while he sat outside not knowing what they were doing, whether it was good or bad, whether it hurt her, or even whether she understood it all.

He had always tried to get his mind off it, and automatically reached for a magazine from the table next to him. But he knew it was pointless; nothing had managed yet to get his mind from Monica, and he knew it was futile to attempt anymore. But he flipped open the magazine anyway, planning to stare mindlessly at the pages, to put up the pretence of nothing being wrong.

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he saw more garble on teenage crime, and flipped to the middle pages. A recipe lay there, and he studied the ingredients, every one making him remember something Monica had said about them once. Apple pie; she had made this dish millions of times- usually for him.

He sighed, looking away from the magazine and resting his head against the wall. Sleeping was impossible too; but he closed his eyes all the time. Maybe he could fall into some kind of semi-conscious stupor.

He had no idea how long he was sat there for, but as Monica's hand shook his shoulder, his eyes snapped open and looked at her. She was smiling gently, and took his hand.

"Come on," she whispered. "I'm done."

* * *

"Oh, look! The Eiffel Tower! Hey, Pheebs, look!"

Monica laughed as Rachel waved another photo in the air, and Phoebe ran over, water spilling from the glass in her hand as she grinned.

"Aww, you guys look so sweet!" exclaimed Phoebe, leaning over the back of the sofa to peer at the picture.

Monica cocked her head and smiled. Chandler had an arm around her shoulder as they stood in front of the Eiffel Tower. She remembered how Chandler had suddenly stopped in the street, asked a Canadian tourist passing by to take their photo, and they gone into an impromptu embrace, with the Tower sticking up behind them. Monica ran a finger over the picture as Rachel handed it to her, sighing softly. Phoebe and Rachel didn't notice, as they laughed at a picture of Chandler in their hotel room.

Monica put the pile of photos down on the sofa and walked into her bedroom, Rachel and Phoebe's laughs ringing in her ears. She felt tears stabbing at her eyes, and brushed them away stubbornly as she clicked the door shut. She opened her wardrobe and bent down, rummaging in a large box before finally producing a bundle of pictures tied together with a elastic band.

She sat herself on the bed, slipped the elastic band off, and began to look through the pictures.

Each one showed her and Chandler smiling at each other, or next to each other. Sometimes one of the others stood there too, smiling too, but most showed Chandler and Monica alone together, both smiles showing how happy they were. Monica let her tears flow as she looked down at the photos, her heart breaking with each one.

"Are you okay?"

Monica jumped. She looked around, and saw Rachel perched on the bed behind her, a gentle smile on her face. Monica wiped her eyes and nodded.

Rachel just slid over next to her best friend and put an arm around her, silently comforting her.

"I can't do this anymore, Rachel," Monica said suddenly, her voice cracking.

"Wh-" started Rachel, but Monica cut her off.

"You know what," she replied, her glistening eyes staring at Rachel. "I'm breaking both our hearts at the same time, Rachel. You should have seen him at the hospital yesterday. He looked… empty, when I came out. Like there was nothing left."

Rachel sighed, clutching Monica's arm tighter. "Monica, listen," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair back from her cheek. "This is not your fault, and you know it. And Chandler knows that. Of course he's hurting- he loves you. And he has to watch you go through this, but he'll still be here, he has to deal with it afterwards… Monica, please, don't blame yourself." Monica looked up as Rachel's voice cracked slightly, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "It'll just make it harder for the rest of us, Monica."

Monica stared at her, feeling tears running down her own cheeks. Rachel looked back, and the silence between them was interrupted by soft music emanating from the next room. Monica smiled at her best friend; but before she could speak, the phone rang, startling them both.

"Hello?" said Monica, leaning across the bed to reach the receiver. "Yes, this is Monica." Her expression changed to one of surprise. "Really? Well, when can I come in? Okay. We'll be there. Thank you. Thanks. Bye."

Rachel looked at her expectantly.

"Something's come up in the tests," whispered Monica. "I have to go in and see them."

* * *

Monica heard her footsteps ringing in her ears like thunderbolts as she walked towards the doctor's office. Chandler walked silently just behind her, thought their hands were still joined together, tightly clasped. The electric lights flickered above, reflecting with a dull glow off the white walls. Various painting hung on the walls as they walked along, hearing quiet voices from the rooms they passed, the wooden doors shut, with no windows to peer through.

They turned a corner, and saw the waiting area for the office that they had sat in just two days ago. Chandler looked reprovingly at the magazine rack before Monica jerked his hand and led him into the office.

Dr. Waingrow sat behind the desk, shuffling papers rather nervously on her desk. She smiled at Chandler as he sat down, and then looked at Monica.

"Right," she began, sighing. "You know why you're here. We got some, er, rather surprising news from your tests yesterday, Monica," she said, glancing at Chandler, who didn't move. "But before I say more, can I just impress this upon you- this does not mean that it's 100% sure. There's still a big chance you won't be able to-"

Chandler cut in. "Please, doctor, just tell us," he commanded, sounding extremely forceful. Monica frowned at him, but didn't say anything.

Dr. Waingrow sighed. "Okay, Mr. Bing. The tests showed that the cancer hasn't progressed as far as we were suspecting. It's going rather slower than usual."

Monica's eyes widened. "And… and what does that mean?" she stammered.

Dr. Waingrow smiled. "Well, if it keeps up at this slow rate- and there's no guarantee of that, you understand- then it may be possible for you to undergo chemo after the baby is born and have a good chance of recovery from the cancer." She looked between the couple before her, as they stared at her.

"Please don't tell me you're kidding," whispered Monica.

"I must say again," said the doctor, her smile fading, "that this doesn't mean you will recover, Monica. But the chances are improved, somewhat," she added.

Monica turned to Chandler to the first time, who was still gaping at the doctor.

"Chandler?" she said, putting a hand on his cheek.

Chandler's head turned slowly toward her, and he smiled. It was gentle; but warm, and Monica finally felt that Chandler was… Chandler again.


End file.
